Fear Lies Within: The 500th Hunger Games
by FireflyLlama
Summary: 500 years of pain, suffering and above all, fear. That's this Quarter Quell's Theme: Fear. Each tributes greatest fear is guaranteed to lie within the arena. But whether they'll live long enough to face it is a whole new challenge. CLOSED x
1. Reapings: District 1 and 2

**A/N- Ok, I'm finally finished with tributes and only have 5 more reapings left to write! But for now, I will let you read District 1 and 2's now!**

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Brooklyn Virgona, District 1 POV

I throw the knife, hard and quick. It cuts through the air and sticks right in the centre of the target. I stroll over, juggling another knife in one hand and pull it out. Sliding the knives into my belt, I walk over and grab and axe from the stand. I give it a few swings first, then haul it over my shoulder, flinging it into another dummy and slicing the head clean in half.

A small applause comes from behind me. "Bravo, bravo. This training over the years has paid off"

"I've been trained since I was five, what do you expect?" I say sarcastically, picking up another axe.

"You're a born fighter, Brooklyn, I expect perfection"

I throw the axe and again, it knocks the head of a dummy clean off. "That perfect enough for you, dad?"

He grins with pleasure. "It was ok"

I turn around, glaring. "_Ok?_ That pretty perfect shot was..._ok_?"

He nods and I feel a rush of anger. I grab the nearest bow and a sheaf of arrows and speedily, load the bow with an arrow and fire it towards him. It hits the wall he's leaning on, just millimetres from his skull. I fire more arrows, each one dangerously close to different parts of his body, until I've made an outline of his shape on the wall.

"What about that, eh? Was that perfect?" I shout at him.

Not waiting for an answer, I grab all the weapons around me and throw them around the room, sticking in dummy's hearts and chopping all different body parts off. I keep at it, my body flushing with heat, until every dummy is lying in a helpless heap on the floor. I then turn back to my father.

"Was that good enough for you? Or do you want me to sprout wings and start breathing fire?" I retort angrily.

My father starts to laugh, clapping his hands together. "And that is why you're _my_ daughter!"

"Wow, I am so lucky" I say with a sarcastic tone, walking out the gym and leaving it in the mess I created.

We arrive at the reaping quite early, Dad's decision, not mine. I don't really want to stand around, listening to his boasts about when he won his Games and all that boring stuff I've heard a thousand times before. So, without him looking, I sneak off and walk up to a group of teens my age.

They stop talking and turn to watch me. This happens all the time; guys going speechless in my presence.

"Whoa, looking hot today Brook" One of the guys, Drake, whistles.

"Tah" I say, stopping to stand with them. "And it's Brooklyn, not Brook"

"Oh, I'm sorry babe" Drake says, slipping his arm around my waist.

I shove it off and raise my eyebrows. "Hey, that area is off limits to you"

"Ooh, is it now?" He jokes, trying to act all cool in front of his mates who are more like his minions, actually.

"Yeah, it is" I say, matter-of-factly. "And if you dare go there again, you'll be sorry"

He licks his lips. "Ooh, feisty! What you gonna do then, Brook, perfume me to death?"

That wasn't even remotely funny, yet his minions start laughing, acting as if they're dying from a perfume overdose. They look like goldfish drinking from toilets. As I said, not funny.

"Oh, cuz that was so hilarious I forgot to laugh" I say, glaring at them with my fierce eyes.

They respond by laughing even harder.

"You're so funny, Brook" Derek says, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "So funny"

I lose my patience with him and grab a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down from his towering height.

"I said, my name is not Brook. It's _Brooklyn_" I hiss in his pathetic face.

He squirms a little in my grip and I release him, throwing a quick punch at the end. My fist hits his face solidly and he stumbles back in shock, tripping over someone's foot and landing on his back, flat on the ground.

His minions stop, some staring at me in horror and others bending down to see if he's alright.

I smile at them and turn away, joining the group of eighteen year old girls.

From across the crowd, I can see Drake touching his face and wincing. I grin to myself, it's been a while since I've punched something other than a dummy. It's gotten me all fired up inside and I feel ready for more. And I'm going to get more very soon...

I look to the stage and watch as Alryna Queen picks out a slip from the bowl labelled, 'Girls'. She's just opening up the paper and is about to read out the name when I shout out loud.

"I volunteer!"

Alryna looks shocked as I march up to the stage.

"Goodness me, you're keen. I hadn't even read out the name!" She exclaims. "So, what's your name?"

"Brooklyn Virgona" I state clearly, turning to the audience. "And you'd better all remember me, cuz I'm gonna win this thing"

Ren Elmwood, District 1 POV

A soft knock comes from my door. I know who it is straight away, my father never knocks, so it must be my mother.

"Come in" I call to her.

The door creaks open and my mother walks in. Her fist is clenched, holding something tightly. She smiles at me and sits down on my bed.

"How are you, Ren?" She asks.

"I'm alright; just worried about today, that's all" I reply.

She shakes her head. "This shouldn't be happening. Your father shouldn't be making you do this"

I sigh. "It's ok, Mother. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm a Career, aren't I?"

"Yes, but you're not like them. I know you're not vicious like the rest of them"

"But I can pretend. I can learn"

She gestures for my hand and I hold it out to her. Her fist presses into my palm, then she pulls away, leaving behind a crumpled piece of paper.

"Our secret" She whispers, her finger to her lips.

I nod and she walks out the room, carefully closing the door behind her. I open up my hand and look at what she left. Gently, I open the paper. A small gasp escapes my mouth as I look at the paper. It's a picture, worn and battered with age, but the image is still quite clear. It's a photo of me and my mother. I look about three years old, swinging on a park swing, a huge grin on my face. My mother is standing behind me, laughing as she pushes me on the swing. The sun is out and there's not a cloud in the sky. The grass below our feet is fresh and green, grass blades shining in the light.

I smile as I look into the picture. I can remember that day; how perfect it was. A day we spent, just the two of us. That's when we had the most fun; when my father wasn't with us. Most days I wish he wasn't here. Then everyday could be like that day in the park.

The door swings open.

"Renold, what's taking you so long?" My father stands in the doorway, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Oh, erm nothing. I'm on my way now" I stutter, quickly hiding the picture in my fist.

"Well hurry up then, I need to talk to you before we go" He says, turning and walking away.

I sigh. I know what he wants us to 'talk' about: Volunteering. It's all he's been thinking about since the day I was born. He has this big dream of me winning the Hunger Games, although he only wants the fame for himself. To be known as the father of the boy who won the 500th Hunger Games. He wants to be better than all of his friends; to beat them in something else besides darts. He just wants to be better and bigger. That's all he wants. That's all he's ever wanted. Except, that's not what I want.

My father is pacing around the lounge when I get downstairs, muttering to himself. I stand in the doorway for a while until he notices me.

"Ah, Renold, there you are" He says. "Come in the room now, no dilly dallying"

I step further into the room.

"Right, you know what day it is today, don't you?" He asks patronizingly.

I nod. "It's the reaping for the 500th Hunger Games"

"And what are you going to do at the reaping?"

I gulp. "Volunteer"

He shakes his head. "That wasn't confident enough. What are you going to do?"

"Volunteer" I repeat a little louder.

"I said; what are you going to do?"

"Volunteer"

"Louder!"

"VOLUNTEER!" I yell.

My father smiles thinly. "That's better" He turns and shouts. "Corrine!"

My mother scurries into the room, obediently. "Yes, Michael?"

"Let us go; it's time for our fame to begin!" He announces, pulling on his jacket.

"You mean Ren's fame" She says quietly.

"Oh yes, whatever" He mumbles ushering us out the house.

I try not to speak as we walk to the reaping. I don't want to think about volunteering. I don't even want to volunteer; I'd much rather, like, live my life. Why would anyone _want _to go into an arena and fight to the death? There's not even a certainty that you'll survive and odds are that you won't. It's not just about who's the strongest or the best fighter; it's about survival more than anything. And most volunteers forget about that.

When we arrive, I barely get time to speak to my mother before I'm whisked off to the signing desk. She manages to wish me luck, but that's about it. My father marches me up to the desk and I sign in, his shadow looming over me.

"Ok, so remember to yell as loudly as possible; you don't want anyone to beat you" My father tells me, gripping my shoulders tightly.

"Uh huh" I nod.

He looks at me, his eyes staring holes into my brain.

"Oh, sorry. I mean; yes father" I say hurriedly.

"Good. Now, go and volunteer" He says, pushing me over to the standing area.

I almost stumble as I'm forced forward, but I manage to catch my fall before I make a fool of myself. Knowing that he's watching me, I walk and stand in my age group. We're right at the back of everyone else, being the eldest. Luckily I'm quite tall, so I can see the stage easily.

Alryna Queen stands on the stage, beaming. Both literally and metaphorically. She reads the Treaty of Treason quickly, obviously impatient to move on to the reaping. Well, the volunteering. Firstly she chooses the girl, as usual. None of them look nervous, they all know that someone will volunteer. And someone does, even before the name is read out, a girl from the back volunteers. She swaggers up to the stage, her long hair flowing behind her like a cape. She looks confident. Too confident. Especially when she turns and tells everyone that she's going to win this Games.

Alryna soon moves on to the boys. Just as she's opening up the slip, I decide to copy Brooklyn.

"I VOLUNTEER!" I shout.

I make no haste in going up to the stage. Trying to look as confident as I can. As I jog up the steps, Alryna claps her hands in delight.

"Ooh! Two volunteers before I even read out the name!" She exclaims excitedly. "This is definitely promising! So, what is your name then?"

"Ren Elmwood" I pronounce clearly.

"Well then, District One! Our two tributes; Brooklyn Virgona and Ren Elmwood!"

I try to stare into the crowd, but my eyes find my mother. She looks so small down there and so alone. Father is already talking to some of the other men, probably boasting. He's just cast her aside, acting as if she isn't there. But she is there and I start to feel like I made the wrong decision. What if I die? She can't cope with father alone. I feel like I've abandoned her.

Bryn Rosella, District 2 POV

The smell of warm pancakes and sweet syrup fills my nostrils. I rub my eyes free of sleep and stifle a yawn. Stretching out my limbs, I lift my eyelids and see the light pouring vastly from the window. What time is it?

Scrambling out of bed, I grab my alarm clock. I stare at the numbered face and notice the two hands are no longer ticking. They're stuck at 4:37.

"Ugh!" I moan, throwing the clock on the floor.

Why does it have to break on the one day I needed it? It's just typical; not even a clock works for me.

I slip on some shoes and trudge downstairs, my feet crashing against the carpeted floor. As I walk into the kitchen, the smell of pancakes multiplies by ten. My parents and five siblings are sitting around the breakfast table; chatting away and scoffing pancakes. They don't even notice I'm standing in the doorway.

I clear my throat. "Nice of you to invite me for breakfast"

No-one stirs, they keep eating and talking.

I cough, slightly louder this time. "Nice of you to invite me for breakfast"

They still don't acknowledge me. Feeling a rush of anger and impatience, I slam the door hard into the wall. The talking suddenly silences and everyone turns around to face me. Finally, some recognition.

"Those walls were painted last week!" My mom exclaims, a horrified look on her face.

"And I've been standing here for the past five minutes! I even coughed loudly and no-one noticed me!" I yell back.

"Well, we didn't hear you" She says, then turns to stare back at the wall. "Oh look at my new wall! It's been marked... and is that a _dint_?"

My dad stands up from the table, walking over to inspect the wall. "Bryn! This is worse up close; do you expect us to pay for this?"

He folds his arms and looks at me, expecting me to grovel and beg for his forgiveness. Well, he's going to be waiting a long time before I apologise...

"Honestly Dad, I don't care. And it seems that you care more about the wall than you do me" I say spitefully. "I hope you're very happy together"

Everyone stares at me in surprise, their mouths gaping open like hollow caves. I turn sharply and storm out the house, slamming the door behind me. Stuff my stupid family. Let them have fun and eat pancakes without me. I don't need them. I don't need anyone.

"Bryn?" Someone calls my name.

I turn around and see Miles running after me. I say running, more like hobbling along awkwardly... he's not the sportiest of people, but he has more brains than the District put together.

"Hey Miles" I say, stopping in the road.

"Had another argument with your family?" He asks knowingly.

I laugh. "How did you guess?"

"You do have at least six major arguments a week, and you storm out on an average of seventeen times per month"

I look at him, my eyebrows raised. "You worked out my average argument count...?"

"Yes, it's quite interesting really" He replies, nodding.

I punch him lightly on the arm. "You're such a dork, you know that?"

"But you still like me"

"I don't_ like _you; I just have to _tolerate_ you because I have no-one else" I point out.

"And I have no-one else either" He shrugs. "So I guess it's just you and me"

I sigh. "I suppose it is"

We walk down the road, Miles going on about the probability of us both being reaped. I don't understand how he finds it so intriguing, but at least it takes my mind off the problems at home. Miles often does that, so I guess that's why I hang around with him. Except for the other reason that I can't hold a conversation with anyone without offending them in some way...

When we arrive at the square, people are swarming everywhere. Moms, Dads, kids. Big boys, little girls. Everyone. There's excitement in the air and people are even making bets with each other. Not exactly the atmosphere you'd except for a reaping, but we're District 2, a Career District. There's nothing to worry about; if you don't want to be in the Games, then you won't be. Even if you're reaped, someone will always volunteer. It's a proven fact.

I'm pretty much standing alone through the Treaty of Treason; all the girls seemed to have edged away from me. They tried to be subtle, but it's written all over their faces. All over everyone's' faces. Not that I care, really.

"Now, District 2, it's time to select our female tribute!" Our representative announces, then pauses and winks to the audience. "Not that this matters, as we'll certainly have a volunteer!"

Nonetheless, she still makes a dramatic scene of choosing a slip and spends about five minutes in doing so.

"Our female 'tribute' is Bryn Rosella everyone!" She exclaims, forming quotation marks with her fingers as she says tribute.

Some of the girls turn to look at me and I shrug at them. They look at me, expecting me to go up on stage, but I stay standing. What's the point? I'm only going to get halfway there before someone volunteers. So why waste the energy?

Several moments later and I'm still standing. No-one has volunteered yet. Oh well, not to worry, they're just creating suspense. That's all, suspense.

"No volunteers?" A surprised voice speaks into the microphone.

There's a wave of silence and a few mumbles, but no volunteers. No volunteers.

"Bryn dear, I think you'll have to come up then" She beckons me to he stage.

My arms folded tightly, I slowly walk up to the stage, expecting someone to leap out and volunteer at the last second. Alas, no-one does and I'm up to the stage in minutes.

"Well then, what a surprise District 2! No volunteers for the girls"

She turns to me, smiling. "So then, Bryn Rosella, what a lovely name"

I glare at her powdered face and snarl. "Shut up trying to be nice, ok?"

She looks a little startled, but laughs to the audience. "She's a right little tough one here. No wonder there are no volunteers; she was probably going to do it herself"

"Don't judge me, sugar puff" I spit.

"Goodness me dear. I was only saying..."

"Well don't say"

She turns away from me, seeming a little out of depth. "And now for our male tribute!"

Kelvin Galloway, District 2 POV

"Ok, so I'm coming at you with a knife, you're unarmed. What do you do?"

"I bring my right arm up and grab the wrist, the left holding the elbow. I push the elbow up fast and pull down the wrist, breaking their arm. Then they'll drop the knife and I pick it up and finish them off" I answer, doing a little demonstration on a dummy.

"Exactly" My dad says. "Right, so the gong rings, what is your first move?"

"I sprint straight to the Cornucopia, heading far into it for the best weapons. I grab the biggest and best sword I can find, then kill anyone in sight. Once they're all dealt with, I'll sort through the supplies an set up a camp with my pack" I explain.

"Yes, that's a good lad! You're definitely ready to enter this year"

I grin. "Well, it is my last chance to do it, I am eighteen now"

"Indeed you are, so go out there and make your old dad proud" He says, slapping me on the back.

"Sure thing, Dad. You'll be at the reaping, right?" I ask, halfway to the door.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world"

I nod and leave the house. The air is warm outside today, the sun scorching down on the dry earth. It's hot, but not humid, and a soft breeze interrupts the heat rays. The sky is blue and the birds are singing. It's the perfect day to volunteer as tribute.

I swagger down the street, my head held high and my eyes looking forward. I pause in my tracks as I hear footsteps behind me.

"Hey, Kelvin!" Kaitlyn calls out to me, her blonde hair flowing wildly as she runs.

"Hi Kaitlyn" I say as she skids to a halt by my side. "Where are the others?"

"Marvin and Leo _were_ with me, but I'm faster than them, so they're lagging behind somewhere" She replies, looking behind us.

I turn too and spot Marvin and Leo jogging down the road.

"Hey, what took you guys so long?" Kaitlyn asks, glancing at her nails.

Marvin stands, clutching his side, gasping for breath. "It's hot today; *breath* hard to run without *breath* sweating like a *breath* pig"

Leo laughs. "You are a pig, man. Big, fat and pink"

"I'm not fat, I'm just..." Marvin doesn't quite finish his sentence, due to his heavy huffing and puffing.

"Of size?" Kaitlyn offers.

We all crack up laughing, except Marvin, who stands glaring at us.

"Oh lighten up, man" Leo says to him. "Have a sense of humour"

"I _have_ a sense of humour! I just don't find it particularly funny when you call me fat"

"Oh sorry, what about 'teetering on the edge of self destruction due to high intake of food'? Is that any better?"

"Fine, I may be a little larger than you, but at least I don't have a dodgy nose"

"It's not dodgy!"

"It's all crooked and bony"

"Don't offend my nose, you fat ass"

"Vulture nose"

"Guys, enough already" I say, stepping between them. "Today is supposed to be about me"

They give each other one last glare and then shake hands, apologising._ God, they're such idiots sometimes. No, make that all the time._

"Oh, so you're volunteering then?" Kaitlyn brings the conversation back.

"Uh huh. I've been training for years, waiting for this day. This is my year, guys" I say, flexing my muscles.

"Well then, Mr Muscle, future winner of the 500th Hunger Games, I think it's time to sign in" She says, gesturing to the desk.

"You bet it is" I grin, walking over to the desk and signing my name in.

Kaitlyn walks off to the other side of the stage, standing with the group of seventeen year old girls. While Marvin, Leo and I go and stand with the eighteen year old boys.

Most people automatically make space for me to walk, but the occasional little dork stands in the way. I have no trouble pushing them out of the way though and they soon get the message. Everyone from school knows me as 'Guns of Steel', and the name is pretty self explanatory: I have arms so solid that I could knock down walls. It's true, and all the ladies love it as much as I do.

A group of girls from across the way smile at me, a few of them even winking flirtatiously. I give them my famous grin and eyebrow raise and I swear one of them nearly faints on another. I sigh, life is so good. And it's about to get better.

I stand impatiently through the annual speech, then yawn as the female tribute is chosen. I can't wait to volunteer and get on that stage. Can't wait to make my dad proud. Over ten years of training will pay off and I'll be able to carry on our tradition of sons becoming Victors. It's been running in his side of the family for a few generations now. First my great-great-great grandfather became a Victor, then it was passed on to his son and then his son and so on. Now it is my turn to continue the Galloway title.

"And now for our male tribute!" The girl from the Capitol announces, holding up a slip of paper.

This is it, my big moment...

"Tobias Spine!"

The moment I've been building up to my whole life has finally arrived...

"I VOLUNTEER!" I yell, pushing my way through the crowd.

I make no hesitations as I make my way to the stage. I can hear people muttering, some exchanging money. They must have bet on me. Well, I am a Galloway, it's in our blood to volunteer... and win.

"Well then, you seem very eager"

"Eager is my middle name" I grin. "As well as my last name being Galloway"

"Ah, the famous Galloway tradition. I think we have our winner already, ladies and gentlemen; this is District Two's year!"

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**A/N- There's 1 and 2 done. What do you think of Kelvin and Brooklyn? They're both pretty tough... But what about Bryn? Are you shocked that there were no volunteers for her? And Ren, do you feel sorry for him? **

**Let me know all your thoughts and answers to these questions in a review! I'd love to know what you think of these characters so far! Also, thank you to all that submitted these tributes, I hope I've written them right!**

**District 3 and 4 should already be up now!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

**And here is the full list of all the tributes! Thanks to all that submitted!**

**District One:**

**Male: Ren Elmwood, 18**  
**Female: Brooklyn Virgona, 18**

**District Two:**

**Male: Kelvin Galloway, 18**  
**Female: Bryn Rosella, 14**

**District Three:**

**Male: Fickle Fletch, 12**  
**Female: Inva Reinhardt, 16**

**District Four:**

**Male: Tal Fontaine, 16**  
**Female: Layla Roberts, 13**

**District Five:**

**Male: Raymond Periwinkle, 18**  
**Female: Victoria Buchegger, 17**

**District Six:**

**Male: Jacob Finney, 18**  
**Female: Harper Sanders, 16**

**District Seven:**

**Male: Phosphorus Vox, 14**  
**Female: Arya Firestone, 16**

**District Eight:**

**Male: Guthrie Zython, 17**  
**Female: Annabeth Rylie, 15**

**District Nine:**

**Male: Zephyr Torelli, 15**  
**Female: Elodie Torelli, 15**

**District Ten:**

**Male: Horacio Francis, 17**  
**Female: Rhea Blakemore, 14**

**District Eleven:**

**Male: Brandon Thiessen, 18**  
**Female: Luna Damion, 16**

**District Twelve:**

**Male: Kay Grinestone, 16**  
**Female: Heidi Fitzherbit, 16**


	2. Reapings: District 3 and 4

**A/N- Ok, as said, here are District 3 and 4 reapings!**

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Inva Reinhardt, District 3 POV

I let my hair fall loose against my shoulders. It feels strange to feel it against my skin, soft yet quite irritating. I flick it behind, but most of the ringlets fall forwards again, or sit on my shoulders, making my slightly higher right shoulder stand out more. Shrugging it off, I try pulling it to the side, but that doesn't work either. In the end, I'm fed up with trying, so I quickly tie it back into my usual ponytail. My arms instantly relax; it feels a lot more comfortable out of the way.

I glance at the clock and sigh. I don't waste much time in getting ready, so I've still got twenty minutes to kill. Twenty minutes of doing nothing. Hurrah... not.

I begin to pace up and down the hallway. Well, I've got nothing better to do with time and I'd rather not think about the possibility of being reaped today. Despite my concentration on avoiding stepping on cracks in the floorboards, some thoughts manage to enter my mind. Thoughts about being chosen.

My name is in there once more than last year, increasing my chances of being reaped by roughly 1 percent. It doesn't seem like a large number, but when you're in with a chance of potentially dying, then every number, no matter how small, matters. Just the tiniest increase can cost your life. Or maybe not, but I doubt that I'll ever win.

Fifteen more minutes of pacing, thinking, and more pacing, when finally there's a knock at the front door. Eagerly, I run to open it and smile as my two best friends stand on the doorstep. Genera and Arc don't seem as nervous as I feel, but stand looking positive.

"Hey, Inva. You're doing that eyebrow thing again" Arc points out.

"I can't help it sometimes" I shrug back, closing the door behind me.

And I can't help it. While other peoples' hands tremble when their nervous, my eyebrows twitch instead. I guess that's a bad thing, as people can always tell when I'm nervous.

"Don't worry so much. You're name is only in there a few times, the chances are pretty slim" Genera smiles, hugging my shoulders with one arm.

"Yeah, but there is still a _chance_. I mean, one person has to be chosen and it could easily be me" I say.

"You're right, but I doubt it" She replies positively with an encouraging smile.

"Hmm, well I haven't taken out tesserae, so my name isn't in there that many times, I suppose" I admit, linking my arms with her and Arc.

"That's the spirit!" She exclaims joyously and we don't say anything else as we walk to the main square.

It's busy, as usual. Loads of kids have already started lining up; others clutching to their parents, their face soaked with tears. They must be twelve year olds, so you can't really blame them. However, I was nervous, but I never cried. I don't really cry. The last time I cried was... I don't know, actually. But it was a while ago.

Genera and I say goodbye to Arc, then head to our age group, sixteen year olds. There are much less tears over here, as this is all our fifth reaping, so we're all used to it. Not that it stops us from feeling nervous. I can see that most of the girls are clutching their friends hands, their knuckles white with the tough grip. I turn to Genera and she nods, taking my hand.

We stand with our fingers linked, although not too hard. If one of us is reaped, we still want to have working hands.

She gives my hand a soft squeeze as the anthem begins and Clarissa Magton starts to read the Treaty of Treason. I can say it off the top of my head, I've heard it that many times. Even so, I listen and try to forget my nerves. Blanking my mind off other things does help a little with the nerves, until Clarissa walks over to the huge bowl marked 'Girls'.

I can feel my eyebrows twitching like crazy, and now even my hands are shaking a little. Genera notices the trembling and gives my hand another reassuring squeeze, then leans over and whispers to me.

"It'll be ok, Inva. There's plenty of girls who have their name in more than you"

I nod, shakily and breathe. She's right, isn't she? There are some girls whose names are in there about thirty times. What are the odds of my name being chosen?

"Inva Reinhardt"

She was wrong.

Genera looks at me, horrified. I pull my hand back from her grasp and blank my face of emotion. Walking through the girls, they all step back to let me through; some with faces of encouragement and sympathy, and others with faces of relief.

I make my way fairly quickly up to the stage, I don't want to seem nervous to everyone. Clarissa pulls me to the centre of the stage and announces my name once more. I stare back into the audience, still showing no emotion.

If I'm gonna try to win this, I'd better start by showing no fear.

Fickle Fletch, District 3 POV

I turn the page, relishing the familiar sound of the paper and the smooth texture of it against my fingers. My eyes dart across the page, reading each word slowly and carefully, although I can quote every page, word for word. Alice in Wonderland is my favourite book and I've read it so man times, I've lost count. Some days I wish I could fall down a rabbit hole and wander through my own wonderland. I would touch everything you can touch, smell everything you can smell and examine everything you can see. I wish for that wonderland, but it hasn't arrived yet. And I'll just keep waiting for my white rabbit.

"Fickle? Can I come in?" My mother calls from outside my room.

Well, she's not my real mother. She's only really been my mother for three years. My real mother... well, I don't know who she was. Maybe she's waiting for me in wonderland? I'm not sure, but for now, I'm ok with my new mother.

When I don't respond, she comes in anyway, carrying some freshly ironed clothes in her arms. She lies them out neatly on the bed, smoothing them down to avoid any creases. I look up from my book and close it, leaving it on the small table beside my comfy chair. I walk over to my bed and look at the clothes. A new pair of fancy looking pants, accompanied by a plaid shirt and a pair of spotless, but slightly worn at the edges, sneakers.

"I'll leave you to get dressed then, Fickle. Meet us down stairs when you're ready?" Mother says.

I nod and she leaves the room quietly.

I let my finger run down the shirt, tracing around the circular buttons and taking in their shape. A nice, perfect shape. Just how I like shapes.

Taking my time, I undress myself and change into the new clothes. They seem a little stiff at first from obsessive ironing, but once I move around a little, they loosen up. I don't bother brushing my hair, it's just going to be hidden by my cap. Looking in the mirror, my cap seems a little out of place with my outfit. In fact, no. The outfit looks out of place with my cap.

I let out a sigh and adjust my cap, then make my way downstairs. My parents are waiting in the porch for me, also wearing fancier clothes than normal.

"All ready then? My father asks, handing me a coat.

I nod, but refuse the coat. I'm much more comfortable in the shirt alone and it is quite warm outside.

My parents walk either side of me on the way to the reaping. It's my first, so they're acting all protective over me. They don't really need to, it's not as if my name is going to be pulled out. It's only in there once.

When we arrive, all I can see is people, people and more people. It must be the whole District here and I'm just one tiny dot in the midst of the crowds. My parents say goodbye, hugging me, but I don't hug them back. I just stand there, aware that they're there, but at the same time, I feel as if I'm alone. There's a look of sadness in their eyes as I walk over to sign in.

"Name?" A woman behind a desk asks.

I don't tell her, instead I find my name on the list and point to it. She gives me a strange look and signs me in, directing me to my group. As I walk away, I hear her muttering to the woman next to her. She's talking about me, I presume. Most people do that.

I get bumped into a few times on my way to the front, older kids not really noticing me. Not that I can blame them; I'm tiny. I've always been the smallest boy at school, even smaller than some of the kids younger than me. A lot of people mistook me for a third grader and I just smiled. I like being small, it does have it's advantages.

I stand, arms down by my side as the Treaty of Treason is read out. I can't help thinking that the woman up on stage looks like a slightly older Alice. She has bright blonde hair tied with lavish ribbons and a puffed out electric blue dress. The only thing missing is a black hair band really.

Alice finishes her speech and announces this year's girl tribute. A sixteen year old called Inva Reinhardt. I watch her carefully as she walks up to the stage. Her face is fairly blank, but I can see through her attempts. Her jaw is tense, which means she's fighting the urge to quiver and shake with nerves. Her hands are balled up in fists, her knuckles white with too much force. She's a little shaken, but overall she's doing quite a good job of being brave.

Once she's on the stage, Alice moves on to the boys. Her hand plunges in without hesitation and she quickly draws a slip. She opens it up and reads out the name.

"Fickle Fletch!"

Oh, that's me.

Layla Roberts, District 4 POV

The waves of the sea crash against the jagged rocks below my feet, salty spray dampening my face and hair. I breathe in the familiar scent of sea air and sigh as it fills my lungs, then releasing it all back into the atmosphere. I look out across the sea, watching as the waves sweep back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes I wish I could just get on a boat and sail out into the horizon, alone. So many times have I thought this plan over, once I even started to build a boat, as no-one would sell me one. I don't get why though, no-one cares about me anyway. So what's it to them if I disappear? They'd probably celebrate, cheering that they'd never have to see my snarling face or hear my crude comments.

I sigh again, leaning back on my elbows when something appears, flying through the air and smacking me right in the face. I jolt up in shock and look to see a small, round ball next lying on the rock next to me. I stand to my feet and look below. Two boys, probably a year or two younger than me, stare up at me.

"You morons" I yell down at them. "I could have concussion, no thanks to you!"

"Oh, sorry" The fat one apologises. "We'll be more careful, next time"

"There might not be a next time if I get my hands on you two!" I threaten.

They seem to look a little worried and intimidated by me, which is exactly what I want.

They're just turning to walk away, when the skinny one stops and looks back to me.

"Hey, could we have our ball back?" He asks, daringly.

I bend down and pick up the ball, throwing it up and catching it in one hand.

"Oh, this ball?" I tease, then turn to face the sea and hurl the ball. It lands with a splash in the water, bobbing quite a way from the shore. _Nice throw_, I think, observing my handiwork.

"What you do that for?" The skinny boy whines.

"You threw it at me first, so in my book, what goes around comes around" I shrug callously.

The two boys stand, gob smacked for a second.

"What can I say? Karma's a bitch, dweebs" I say, grinning with cruelty.

They look at each other and walk sheepishly back in the direction of town. Their shoulders slumped and their heads drooping to the floor.

I laugh and shout after them, "Happy Hunger Games!"

I don't see the boys until later this morning, at the reaping. As I sign in, I notice them out the corner of my eye. They're staring at me, but I pretend to ignore them at first. Then, as I walk past them, I turn and smile at them. They try to stare me out, but soon give in and look away, dissolving back into their group. I do manage to make out one of them, whispering to another kid, definitely about me. I can always tell when people are talking about me, they always are. And honestly, I don't give one. People can talk about me as much as they want to, for all I care.

And they will talk about me even more once the reaping is over, I'm sure.

The reaping begins with the annual show of the Treaty of Treason. I don't get why they still bother with that load of crap; it's not going to change anyone's minds about the Capitol, or the Games. Once all that shit's over, our District's representative enters the stage, wearing some ridiculous turquoise outfit, that I'm guessing is supposed to look like a fish? Whatever it is, it looks foul. Almost as foul as her irritating enthusiasm for this year's Games.

"Hello District Four, are you all excited?" She says, smiling a little too wide that I think her mouth is going to fall off the edge of her cheek. "I know I am; it's a Quarter Quell! The 500th Games are going to be even more amazing than ever before!"

Oh yeah, it's a Quell isn't it? I'd forgotten about that. Oh well, it will make it even more thrilling for me. If I'm going to die, then I'd want it to be in style. Or if I win, then this is the year to win it. Either way, it's a win-win situation. If I die, then everyone here will get what they want, and if I win, then I'll get what I want. Something to be proud of. And maybe I'd get a few friends as a bonus.

"As I'm sure you all know, this Quell's twist is a biggie!" The fish exclaims excitedly. "Each tribute's biggest fear will be guaranteed to be in the arena!"

A ripple of fear moves throughout the rows of kids. I grin, crossing my arms across my chest. This is definitely my year, I'm not afraid of anything. The twist can't hurt me.

"Ok then, let's begin with our female tribute!" She says, standing before a large glass bowl.

Some of the girls around me start to take each other's hands. They look so nervous, aww bless their little cotton socks. Not. Wimps.

"And our female tribute is...dramatic drum roll here... Dora Skyling!" She announces.

I don't give Dora much time to panic, as I step out of the crowd, yelling as loud as I can. "I volunteer!"

"Ooh, a volunteer! This _is_ exciting, isn't it?" The fish squeals. "Come on up then and let's introduce you to the world"

Everyone stares at me as I make my way to the stage. I know what they're thinking. _Why would a thirteen year old girl volunteer? _Well, I have plenty of reasons to volunteer.

"So, what's your name, sweetie?" She asks, holding out her hand.

I knock it away and answer confidently. "Layla Roberts, and I'm not a sweetie"

She looks taken aback for a brief moments, then laughs. "Wow, District Four, I think we have a right tough cookie here"

I grin to the crowds. They do have a tough cookie.

Tal Fontaine, District 4 POV

"So, how's the training going, Tal?" My mother asks, walking into the kitchen.

I pause through chewing a piece of bread. "Yeah, good, I guess"

"Your father says that you're doing very well" She says, going to fill the sink up and wash the dishes that have piled up on the counter.

She's just turning on the tap when my older sister, Brooklyn comes rushing into the room, clutching her abdomen.

"Quick, move out the way! I'm gonna be sick!" She cries, flinging herself to the sink.

Mili-seconds later, I hear a retching sound, followed by a heavy sigh.

"Ugh, getting pregnant was a bad idea" Brooklyn groans, rinsing the puke from the sink. "Not only am I constantly throwing up every morning, but I'm missing out on the chance to volunteer for the Games"

"Aw, what a shame. Looks like I'll have to become the Victor of our family instead" I smile at her, knowing that it will wind her up inside.

"Oh shut up, Tal. This isn't funny" She moans at me.

"Really? Cuz I find watching you suffer both physically and mentally quite amusing" I say, taking another bite of the bread.

"Oh, you're so immature" She sighs.

"And you're the wise adult are you? Is getting pregnant at eighteen mature?"

"It was an accident, Tal. Do you think I want to be carrying a baby? Well, no, I don't. I want to be volunteering for the Hunger Games" She says, then bursts into tears. "I'm supposed to be volunteering today!"

She runs out the room, sobbing. I look at her weirdly, raising my eyebrows.

"I don't agree with it either, Tal. But stop winding her up, her hormones are all over the place" Mother says.

"Blame it on the hormones, again" I mutter. "Sometimes I wish _I_ was pregnant, then I could get away with things"

"Tal, that's ridiculous, you're a boy" Mother says.

I roll my eyes and walk out the room, where my father sits outside in a deck chair.

"Hey" I greet him, sitting down on the stair.

"Oh, hi son. Had another bicker with Brooklyn?" He says, lifting off his hat to see me clearer.

"Sort of" I shrug. "Dad, I was thinking about something..."

"Uh huh?"

"Do you think I have a good shot of winning the Games?" I ask.

He thinks briefly for a moment, then says. "Probably, but you're best waiting 'till you're eighteen. You'll have more experience then"

"Yeah, but I have the experience now. I can't stand it any longer, this waiting. I've been training for ages" I explain. "I'm _ready_"

He sighs, looking to me.

"Well, if you think you're ready..."

"I know I'm ready" I state.

"Then go for it, son. Go make us all proud" He says, slapping me on the back encouragingly. "Let's go get everyone else and head down there. I can't wait to see my only son volunteer for the Hunger Games"

"It's a Quarter Quell, too" I point out.

"That's even better then" He disappears into the house.

I wait outside for five minutes before they all emerge; Mom, Dad, Brooklyn and Rain. It's good to have the whole family together. It's usually just the four of us, as Rain has an important job in town and comes home late most nights and spends the weekends sleeping and hanging out with friends.

"I hear you're volunteering" Rain says to me.

"I am" I grin proudly.

"Well, good for you" She says, then walking ahead beside Dad.

I stay behind the others, thinking to myself. Planning my moment. Will I just step out and volunteer? How will I act towards the crowds watching me? Will I act cool and collected? Arrogant and confident? Sly and mysterious?

I still haven't made up my mind when we start to queue up to sign in.

"Good luck, son. Make us all proud" My father slaps my back, then turns it into a sort of hug.

"I will, Dad. I promise" I tell him.

I say goodbye to my mother and Rain, both hugging me. I'm not usually one for hugs, but this time I'll make an exception. Brooklyn doesn't offer though, she just mumbles bye and walks off in a huff. I know how badly she wanted this to be her year and I almost feel sorry for her as she separates from everyone her age and stands with my parents. But then again, I sort of thank her for getting pregnant. It gave me the opportunity to volunteer for a Quell, and that will go down in our family history. Nice one, Brooklyn.

I stand, back up straight and head facing forward. I don't bother talking to any of the lads near me, they're not important right now. What's important is me volunteering showing my years of training off to the Panem.

As I watch the speeches and all that nonsense, I can't help but notice that our representative looks like a fish. I'm guessing it was deliberate, what with our industry being fishing, but it looks stupid. I am definitely not going to wear anything that ridiculous when I become Victor, even if I'll be able to afford it.

The girl's name is called and someone volunteers. I'm kind of a little annoyed, I was supposed to be the only volunteer this year... However, when I look at her, I'm a little shocked. She doesn't look like a volunteer who's been training all her life. She doesn't even look like a Career, apart from her sarcasm and hard face. And, hold on a minute, did they say she was _thirteen?_

And I thought I was young, at sixteen, to be a volunteer for a Career District.

We move on and the boy's name is read out. I step out before he has chance to let go of his crying friends.

"I volunteer!"

I glance back at him and he looks relieved. He gives me a quick smile and I wave as if to say _'no problem'_. Then I jog up to the stage and greet the giant fish. Closer up, I can see that the outfit even has scales... What a loser.

"And your name is...?" She asks, holding out the microphone.

"Tal Fontaine" I pronounce clearly, giving the audiences a quick flash of my killer smile.

There's a few whistles from the girls and I laugh, waving to them. Wow, if I'm getting this attention now, then imagine the life I'll have when I come back!

I can't wait to be Victor.

* * *

**A/N- Right, so that is those reapings done. What do you think of these characters? What do you think of Inva? Do you think she handled it well? What about Fickle? He's a little strange, but could he have a hidden ability? And Layla, do you think it's her fault that she's so lonely? Then Tal, do you think he's ready?**

**Well, let me know what you think and tell me anything in a REVIEW! Thanks to all the submitters, I hope your character is written ok.**

**District 5 and 6 will be up in the next few days I hope!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	3. Reapings: District 5 and 6

**A/N- OK then, without much delay, here are the reapings for District 5 and 6. Enjoy!**

* * *

Victoria Buchegger, District 5 POV

"Alex! They're right behind you! Run!" I scream, my arms thrashing about wildly.

He stands there. He can't hear me. He won't hear me.

They're getting closer. They're sharpening their swords. They're getting ready to strike.

"Alex listen to me! Please hear me! Alex!" I cry helplessly to him.

But his face is a blank canvass. He's frozen to the spot. He won't move an inch.

They're just behind him. A metre away. Their swords raised.

"Alex please! Don't let this happen! Listen to me! Please!" I yell frantically to him.

His body is like a statue. The boy behind him swings down his sword...

"ALEX!"

Someone grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard. My eyes fly open and Ren is sitting in front of me, her fingers digging into my shoulders and her face pale and worried. My body is shaking violently and I'm struggling to breathe. My throat is locked tight and no oxygen can get through to my lungs. I gasp out for air, my heart racing.

"Victoria, breathe" Ren speaks to me softly.

I nod slowly and start suck in the clammy air. My throat starts to reopen and air is brought into my lungs.

"That's it; in and out. In and out" Ren shows me.

My heart begins to slow down and my body stops trembling as I take in the air. Once I'm stable and breathing properly, Ren loosens her grip on my skin and I start to cry.

"Shh, it's ok Victoria. It was just a bad dream, it's not real" She tells me, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It's all just a dream, you're ok"

"It...it was...Al...Alex" I stammer.

"I know, I know. But he's safe now; no-one can hurt him" She says, pulling a tissue from her pocket and handing it to me.

I blow my nose and smile gratefully.

"Thanks, Ren. It's just that time of the year, it always reminds me..." I blink back the tears.

"Was it the same dream?" She asks.

I nod and she leans over, hugging me so tightly that I almost squeak. For that moment, I almost forget about the dream. Just having Ren here to comfort me is, well, comforting. However, I sort of feel guilty; she's always there when I have these dreams. Every time. Every year. Yet, she's only fourteen and I'm supposed to be her older sister. I'm supposed to be the one looking after her, not the other way round.

"Hey, let's get ready, eh?" She says, standing up and pulling me after her.

Ren grabs my arm and drags me to the bathroom, standing me in front the sink. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh; I'm a mess. Bloodshot puffy eyes, damp streaks down my face and a bright crimson nose. Not the most attractive scene for the reaping, where everyone dresses in their best.

Ren takes a flannel from the shelf and soaks it in warm water, then starts wiping my face gently. She washes until my skin is sparkling clean and the only things indicating that I've been crying are my eyes. No amount of water could reduce the redness.

A toothbrush is thrust into my mouth and I begin brushing my teeth, as Ren rubs some sort of cream into my skin. It smells fresh and flowery.

"What is that stuff?" I ask, with foamy toothpaste filling my mouth.

"Body cream" She replies. "From my last birthday"

I spit out the toothpaste into the sink.

"You can't waste it on me, Ren! It's yours" I say, trying to pull my arm away.

"I'm not wasting it; I want to use it on you. We want you to smell nice, don't we?" She says, continuing to rub the smooth cream into my skin.

"Thanks" I say quietly.

"Your welcome" She says. "Now, hurry up, we need to get you dressed"

I finish brushing my teeth and I'm ushered into my bedroom. Ren goes into my wardrobe and pulls out my reaping dress. A long, ruby red dress with narrow sleeves up to the elbow. I chose it three years ago and it's my favourite. Not that I have many dresses in the first place.

Ren helps me get changed and applies a small bit of makeup to my eyes to reduce the red appearance. Once she's finished, I look much better than I did this morning. I look, almost...happy.

I hear the doorbell ring and I rush downstairs, knowing it will be for me. And it is. Standing outside, dressed in a rather short white dress that clings to her curves, is my best friend Aaliyah. She flings her arms around me and compliments my dress. I compliment her in return and she gives me a little twirl.

"I still can't get used to the fact that you're dating my brother" I say to her.

"Well you'd better, cuz I'm planning on holding onto him for a while" She grins at me.

"Hold on to who for a while?" The sound of Rye's voice comes from behind us.

We both turn and see Rye walking to us. Aaliyah runs up to him and plants a kiss on his cheek, whispering something in his ear.

"Right, are my favourite girls ready?" Rye asks.

"Yeah, but where's Ren?" I reply.

"Oh, she says to go ahead. She's walking over with some friends" Rye explains, then takes Aaliyah's hand and points ahead. "Let's go then"

The walk to the main square gets quieter and quieter as we get closer. By the time we've signed in and are making our ways to the groups, I'm feeling really sick. All throughout the speech my stomach is groaning and I taste sick in the back of my throat.

I feel the same every reaping. Even worse these last few years, as now I have Ren to worry about as well. Most of the sickness isn't caused by nerves, it's caused by memories. Horrible, horrible memories.

Memories of me and Alex on our first reaping. We were both glued to the hip, so when we were forced to stand separate it was tough. Not only were we separated, but he was reaped. I remember feeling sick to the stomach and all I could do was cry. He died, obviously, on the first day. A Career cut off his head... and that image has never escaped my mind.

What if I-

"Our female tribute is Victoria Buchegger!"

I'm joining Alex.

Raymond Periwinkle, District 5 POV

His body lands with a thump on the floor.

"Ow!" Jake exclaims, lying flat on his back. "That was unfair: you're way bigger than me!"

I laugh and nudge his side with my toe. "C'mon, get up wimp. We're not done yet"

With an exaggerated moan, he hauls himself to his feet and starts rubbing the back of his skull.

"I think I'm concussed" He states.

"You're not concussed" I sigh impatiently. "Here, catch"

I throw him a sword, well it's more like a pointy stick than a sword, and he catches it succesfully in his right hand.

"See, if you were concussed you wouldn't have caught that" I say, grabbing my own stick-sword.

Jake scowls at me. I scowl back, then brandish the stick-sword in front of my body, towards Jake.

"On guard!" I yell, lunging forward.

Jake blocks my lunge, then attempts to strike. With quick reflexes, I step to the side, dodging the attack. Jake curses under his breath.

"Haha; you'll have to do better than that to hit me" I laugh, blocking his stick-sword.

He tries to move his stick-sword back, but I've got it stuck in an unmovable position. I can see the strain on his face as he struggles to free his weapon. He looks so stuck and helpless, I want to laugh out loud. Haha, serves him right.

I let him try for a few more moments before sliding my stick-sword away. Jake instantly swings his, in an attempt to slice my torso. Not like he could anyway; it's just a stick. In response, I lift my stick-sword and it collides with his. The upper force is greater, snapping Jake's clean in half. Small splinters flake off and fall to the ground, along with half the stick.

"What the-?" Jake stares helplessly at his snapped weapon.

"The law of physics, my little brother" I shrug knowingly. "I'm just way better at fighting than you are"

Jake grunts, dropping the other half of the stick and stomps out, muttering under his breath.

I laugh and call after him. "You can still learn!"

The back door shuts and I'm left standing in the backyard, surrounded by splinters of broken wood. I bend down and start picking up the pieces, a few splinters breaking the skin on my fingers. With ease, I pull one out of my thumb, feeling no pain at all. I look to the area of ground where Jake fell. Sure, it's not the softest of landings, but it wouldn't really hurt. In fact, you'd be happy to land on that if you were in an arena. Jake's just a wimpy twelve year old; the opposite to his eighteen year old brother, whom is planning on volunteering for this year's Hunger Games. Yeah, people may think it's crazy for a District Five boy to volunteer, but I can do it easily. I'm as strong as a Career, maybe even stronger. And, I'll even join the Career pack to prove it. In fact, they'll beg me to join them. I'll be their pack leader and everyone will not only remember me as the 500th Victor, but as the District Five boy who lead the Careers.

The back door opens.

"Ray, you ready?" My Dad asks, his head popping from behind the door.

"Yup, let's go" I reply, leaving the sticks on the floor and following him out.

Jake has changed into a shirt and smarter trousers and while he walks, he's constantly rubbing the back of his head dramatically.

"Jake, what's up with your head?" Dad asks him.

"Ray wrestled me and now I'm concussed" He answers, partially glaring at me.

"I'm sure you're not concussed" Dad says, seeming slightly slightly puzzled at my brother's claim.

"Of course he isn't. He's just a wimp" I say, a slight edge to my voice.

"I am not a wimp! I'm severely damaged!" He shouts back in protest.

"Well if your head is damaged, don't get any wild ideas of volunteering" I say. "That's my plan"

Jake and Dad freeze, turning to look at me, their faces white with shock.

"What? You're... _volunteering_?" Dad asks.

"Um, yeah. I did just say that" I answer.

They seem so surprised that neither of them say anything else as we walk to the reaping. When I'm saying goodbye to my Dad, he tries to persuade me to not volunteer, but I keep to my word. I'm volunteering and that's final.

Jake is still complaining about his 'concussion' as he takes his place among the twelve year olds. Seriously, wimp. I walk to the back and wait patiently as the girl is reaped. Victoria Buch-thingy her name is. Not the 'thingy'; I can't remember it over my thoughts. My patient starts wearing thin as the boy's name is read out and I try to keep my cool as I step forward.

"I volunteer!" I shout clearly over the cries from the tribute's parents.

The wailing stops and there's a stunned silence as I head up to the stage without waiting for an invitation. The boy who was reaped has his mouth gaping open so wide that you could fit three pinecones in it. Geez, why is everyone so silent and surprised? I do look like the person to volunteer, right? Hmm, well we do never have any volunteers... Oh awesome, I could set of a trend.

"Wow, a volunteer!" The girl on stage exclaims. "The first one I've ever seen! And what is your name?"

"Raymond Periwinkle" I say, then wink seductively to the audience. "But you can call me Ray"

Harper Sanders, District 6 POV

"Are you sure this isn't too tight?" I ask unsurely, tugging at the waistline. "It feels a little snug"

"Nah, it looks fine" Virginia says, not really paying much attention. It seems that her hair is more important than whether I look fat in this dress. Typical younger sister.

"You're not even looking" I say, hands on my hips.

"I am" She replies, quickly looking up.

I raise my eyebrows. "Of course"

I turn back to the mirror. The dress feels a little tight, but in the mirror it doesn't look that bad. I twirl a few times and the dress flares up, flashing the tops of my white stockings. Nah, I'm not fat. Just a little... plump.

"Right, come on. Lets go downstairs" I say, prodding my sister in the arm.

She reluctantly follows, still combing her hair excessively. I don't know why she's putting in all this effort; she's not going to be reaped, she's only eleven.

My parents are sitting in the lounge when we come down, sipping some good old comforting tea.

"Some tea to calm your nerves?" My mother asks, offering me the teapot.

"Ok, I could do with it actually" I accept, pouring myself half a mug.

I sip it generously, allowing the sweet, hot liquid to trickle down my throat and warm my stomach. I finish the whole mug within a few gulps and reach for more. My brother, Aaron, comes into the room, half his shirt tucked in and half tucked out.

"Shirt in, or shirt out?" He asks us, gesturing to his crumpled white shirt.

I stroke my chin as if in deep thought. "I like the whole mismatched look you've got on now"

He sighs heavily at me. "I can't have it like this"

"Why not?"

"It looks stupid"

"Then it'll suit you" I joke, finishing another mug of tea.

I reach out for the teapot, but my mother's hand blocks the way.

"I think you've had enough tea, Harper" She says. "You don't want to feel the effects during the reaping"

I laugh. "Yeah, you're probably right"

"Speaking of the reaping, I think it's time we made our way over there" She says, looking at the clock on the wall. The hands seem to be ticking faster today, each minute feeling like a second, luring closer to that time of year.

"Where's Rosa?" I ask the whereabouts of my older sister.

"I'm here!" Her voice echoes out from outside the window.

I walk over and look through the glass. Rosa's standing outside in a skimpy pink dress, her arms draped around her boyfriend, Tyger.

The rest of the family follow me out.

"Hey, Harper" Tyger greets me casually.

"Don't 'Hey Harper' me; I haven't forgiven you for last weekend" I say, folding my arms.

"Ah, you'll forgive me soon. You've just gotta love me, right?" He laughs.

"Wrong" I reply.

"Well I love you" Rosa leans in and kisses his cheek affectionately.

I make a fake puking sound and turn away. I'm fine with all the lovey dovey stuff, but I don't get what she sees in him. I really don't. He's quite arrogant and pretty boy like, and Rosa's... well, not. Alas, she's old enough to choose her own boyfriends and doesn't seem to care about what her little sixteen year old sister thinks. Typical older sister.

I swear Tyger has hacked into Rosa's brain or something. Her personality completely changes whenever _he's_ around. She gets all giggly and high pitched... And that is exactly how she acts all the way to the reaping. Even when me and Aaron go to stand, awaiting out fate, she still doesn't seem to notice anyone else. It's all Tyger Tyger Tyger. Giggle giggle giggle.

I say goodbye to Virginia and sign in, then stand in my allocated area.

"Hiya Elvia" I greet my friend.

"Oh, hi Harper" She replies, her face pale and her voice shaking, but not as much as her hands. It's as if they're about to erupt or something!

"Are you alright?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No, not really. I'm really scared"

"Aww, don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine. You haven't signed up for tesserae have you?"

"No"

"Well then, your name is only in there a few times. I bet you anything you won't be chosen" I reassure her.

"Sure?"

"I'd bet my favourite t-shirt" I smile.

"Ooh, the pink one with the nice sleeves?"

I laugh. "See, you've forgotten already"

"That's because you cheered me up" She says, giving me a quick hug. "Thanks"

"No problemo" I reply.

There's no more time to talk anymore, the reaping begins. Throughout most of the introduction, I'm fiddling with my stockings. They keep falling down, so I crouch to pull them up again. I'm just trying to secure them when I hear someone calling my name.

"What?" I ask, lifting my head.

There's an uproar of laughter around me and I feel my cheeks go pink.

"You're representing District Six in the 500th Hunger Games!"

Oh.

Jacob Finney, District 6 POV

The sun's rays shine in my eyes as I walk along the dusty road. I lift my hand to shield my eyes, casting a small shadow across my face. The air is humid and I'm on the verge of sweating in this shirt. Who's idea was it to wear a shirt? I'd be better in a vest top... a tight one, then the girls at the reaping could see my six pack... Hmm. This is just typical though; when the sun finally comes out and it seems like the perfect day, it's spoilt by the reaping. Spoilt by the fact that two of us teens are going to be called out to die. Ok, to enter the Hunger Games. Which is pretty much a death sentence anyway. There are twenty four tributes, so the likelihood of you winning is pretty slim. Unless you're a Career. But even then, five Careers must die to leave the one Victor, right?

"Hey, so Jacob, are you nervous?" My best mate, Sam, asks me.

I shrug. "Nah, I don't really get nervous. Why, are you?"

"Uh, course not. I mean, why would I be nervous? I'm not the kind of guy that sweats about this stuff; that's just wimpy. The reaping doesn't bother me at all, pfft why would it?" He says, clearly making the whole lot up to sound tough.

"Sam, shut up" I tell him. "I know you're nervous"

He sighs. "Yeah, I'm pretty nervous. I mean, just look at my hands; they're quaking like an errupting volcano!"

"Yup, I can see lava flowing within your veins" I say sarcastically. But Sam doesn't notice my sarcasm, as per usual. He just gasps.

"Oh man, you're right! I can feel them vibrating so much and the heat in my blood _is_ like lava! If they keep shaking like this, little cracks with form in my skin and craters in my nails! And then suddenly, without warning, they'll crack open and lave will-" He rambles, but I don't quite hea much else, as I'm suddenly distracted.

Distracted by babes. Three tall, thin and hot babes.

Drifting away from Sam and his rambling, I swagger over to the girls. Quickly, I ruffle my short blond curls and dampen my lips lightly.

As I get nearer, the girls turn around, their long hair swishing behind their curved backs.

"Hello, ladies. I'm Jacob, and you are?" I greet them, winking.

"Hi" The pretty blonde girl replies, twisting a ringlet of her hair. "I'm Stephanie and my friends are called Daisy and Rainie"

The other two girls, pretty, but not as gorgeous as Stephanie, smile and me. Their cheeks have blushed a soft pink.

"So, I don't believe I've seen you around this area before" I say.

"Oh, we're not from this part of the District" Stephanie tells me. "We live on the other side, but we arrived at the reaping too early and decided to go for a little walk"

"Ah, I see. You're quite prompt then?" I say, trying to sound interested. Even if they've had the most boring life, a girl always likes it when you take interest in their life. I know: I've had experience. A lot of experience.

"Yeah, you know what they say; the early bird catches the worm" Stephanie smiles.

"Hmm, so does us meeting make me the bird, or the worm?" I ask, a hint of lust in my voice.

She pauses for a moment, as if to think. "Well, that depends on whether you're a good kisser"

"I think you'll have to decide that for yourself" I whisper, leaning my head in.

She flashes me a quick smile and gently closes her eyelids. I find my arm wrapping around her thin waist and pulling her in to me. Her scent of sweet roses fills my body and deepen the kiss. She responds, but after a only a few short moments, she draws back.

"I would stay, but we have a reaping to get to" Stephanie says, stepping back from me. "It was nice meeting you, Jacob"

"And you too, Stephanie" I reply. "I might see you around some time"

"I'm sure you will" She winks, then links her arms with Daisy and Rainie. I watch as the three girls saunter away, their hips swaying simultaneously, teasing me.

I stay standing, watching, until they're out of sight. I seem to be in a trance, until a rather shaky hand rests on my shoulder.

"Jacob, man. I think you're drooling" Sam jokes, waving his hand in front of my face.

I whack his arm out the way. "Oh shut up Sam. Tell me you're not fascinated by the species of hot girls"

"Sorry man, I can't. My hands are tied down; Mandy will go mad if she caught me oggling girls way out my league" He says.

"Yeah, she'll have your guts for bacon before sundown. Besides, none of those girls would have been remotely interested in you" I say, beginning to walk.

"They might. Not every girl is instantly in love with you" He says.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "I think you'll find that I'm capable of getting any girl I want... Unlike you, my friend"

Sam starts retorting back about how big my ego is and crap about girls being into the big hearts and blah blah blah. Boring Sam. I manage to ignore his speech on what girls like in a boy all the way to the reaping and even through the Treaty of Treason he's still whispering 'facts' in my ear.

Finally, as the girl is being reaped, Sam shuts up. It's a girl called Harper, who wasn't even paying attention so she didn't realise she was reaped. Some people are so ditzy.

Instantly, I start checking her out. It's just an instictive thing with me. It just, happens. I'm right near the back, so it's hard to tell whether she's good looking. From here, she looks a little on the chubby side and she's kinda short. Hmm, not really my type, but her hair looks quite nice. I'm almost standing on my tiptoes, trying to get a better view of our female tribute when a voice booms in the microphone.

"Jacob Finney!"

I click back to reality. Sam's nudging me, whispering to me about going on stage. I nod at him and start walking out the crowd. Most of the boys seem pleased that I've been reaped, whilst the girls seem upset. Probably because it will be a lot harder for them to date me if I'm in the Hunger Games. And maybe even harder if I win.

* * *

**A/N- Ok, so four more characters for you to either love or hate, hmm although this is only a snippet of their personality. Even so, what do you think of them? Do you think anyone has a good chance or do you like a particular person?**

Whatever your thoughts are, just let me know in a review! And thanks to everyone who submitted these tributes!

Next reapings will be up verrryyy soon, so keep a look out!

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	4. Reapings: District 7 and 8

**A/N- Ok, as I said, this is up very soon! Enjoy reapings for District 7 and 8!**

* * *

Arya Firestone, District 7 POV

It's been four years. Four hard years since that day. That day when his name was called and he stepped away from us, never to be seen smiling again. He was only fourteen, too young to die. Too young to leave his twelve year old sister and one year old brother. Too young to let them spend the rest of their lives without him. They still have parents, but they weren't enough. Nothing was enough once that hole had been emptied.

I close the locket.

Sighing, I slip the locket back into my mother's drawer, sliding it close, slowly and quietly. Tiptoeing, I leave the room, shutting the door behind me as if I were never there. My mother would kill me if she knew I had seen the locket - or even knew of its existence. I don't know why she keeps it a secret from me. No wait, I do. She wanted just sons, no daughters. That's what she always wanted, so when I came along, I was instantly the least favourite. Everything had always been about my older brother. How he was always top of the class at school and how sporty he was. There was him; the perfect child. And then there was me. The unwanted daughter.

Then my younger brother was brought into the world and guess what? I was downgraded from the unwanted daughter to the full time babysitter. I should hate my brothers, but no matter how much I wanted to, I just couldn't. My older brother was too nice and although he received too much praise from my parents, he was never arrogant about it. He was modest and he was my brother. Until he died.

"Arya?" A small voice says my name.

I turn around and see my younger brother looking up at me. "Yes, Benny?"

"Mommy says it's time to go" He says.

"Oh, ok then. Tell her I'm on my way" I tell him.

He nods and runs back out, his worn out shoes padding down on the stained wood and his head bobbing up and down as he runs. How could I hate him? Yes, he might have made part of my life worse, but he wasn't to know. He was only one year old, so small and innocent.

Shortly afterwards, I follow and leave the room. My parents wait in the main room of the house. You can't really call it a lounge or kitchen; it's pretty much everything in one room. Except the three tiny bedrooms. They try to smile at me, but I know they're just pretending. They don't mean it. They're just trying to be nicer because their precious first born has gone. They think that being kinder to me now makes up for everything in the past. But it doesn't. I can't forget how they were before.

"You look nice, Arya" My mother says, reaching to touch my dress.

I yank it out of her reach. "Yeah, thanks"

"Arya, don't be like this. Not today" She says.

"Even more the reason" I mutter, walking outside.

I sit on the crumbled wall, half of the bricks have worn away and the cement between them has decomposed to dust. I watch as families walk past, clutching tightly to their children's' hands and that look of dread and fear on their faces. Most of the children are pale, nervousness taking over their bodies. Some are even crying, snivelling, and their eyes are red with tears. I kick a piece of stone with my toe in anger. This isn't fair. None of it is. Children shouldn't have to live in fear like this. Parents shouldn't have to have their children sent away to battle to their death in an arena. And what for? Entertainment?

Pfft, no. How can any sane person find the Hunger Games entertaining? Wait, I forgot, no-one from the Capitol is sane. They just totter about in their ridiculous costumes, chatter away in their stupid accents and find pleasure in our worst nightmares. It's sick. And they killed my brother.

The walk to the main gathering is silent, as usual. I know we're all thinking; remembering.

My parents attempt to hug me goodbye, but I put my hand out instead. They shake it awkwardly and walk away, leaving me to wait before the stage. It's busy and takes me a short while to find someone I know.

"Hi" I tap Dilly on the shoulder.

She turns around and smiles. "Oh, hey Arya. You nervous?"

"Yup, it's the reaping" I answer simply. "And you?"

"Very; I had to take out two lots of tesserae this year" She replies, nervously fiddling with her hair that's braided to the side and tied with a blue ribbon.

"I'm sure you'll be fine" I say.

"I hope so"

The anthem begins and we turn to the front. Our representative, Goldie Templeton walks on stage, clapping her hands and smiling to the crowds. Insane.

"Welcome my favourite District!" She greets us. "It's that time again, when we select our two bold and brave tributes to represent District Seven in the annual Hunger Games!"

I roll my eyes. Hardly bold and brave; we're forced to do it.

"Right, without further hesitation, I will now choose our female!" She announces, walking beside the bowl.

Her hand, with fingers so long and topped with glittering nails, swirls inside, teasing the slips of paper. Each one she brushes along could be mine. One of them could be chosen. One with my name on.

She plucks one out.

"Ahem, ladies and gentlemen, our female tribute for the 500th Hunger Games is..."

Please don't be me. Not me. Anyone but me...

"Arya Firestone!"

My heart plummets.

Phosphorus Vox, District 7 POV

"Saxon!" I call out to the woods.

He comes bounding out of the abundance of trees, his tail wagging wildly and holding something between his teeth.

"What have you go there, boy?" I ask, bending to see what he's found.

He stops in front of me and barks proudly, dropping the object at my feet. I pick it up and turn it in my hands. It's just a twig, but Saxon seems so proud of it that I start stroking his head

"Wow Saxon, a twig! Who's a clever dog?" I praise him, exaggerating a little to make him feel special.

He barks as if to say '_I am!' _and his tail swishes behind him.

"Come on then, we'd better head home. It's the reaping today" I say, standing up.

Saxon barks in agreement and looks longingly at the twig that's still in my hand. Sensing he wants play, I throw the twig and start to walk home. Saxon follows behind, retrieving the twig and waiting for me to throw it again. I keep throwing it and he keeps bringing it back, all the way from the woods back to our small, run down house.

When we get in, Saxon heads straight for the fireplace and stretches out on his belly. I laugh and rub his back.

"Fire's not on Sax, it's summer"

Even so, he stays lying down and I throw him an old shoe he likes to chew on. He grabs it in his teeth and begins gnawing on the sole.

I leave him with the shoe for entertainment and go into my bedroom. My small, box like bedroom. My reaping clothes are waiting on the end of the bed and I sigh, starting to get undressed. Once I'm changed, I give my hair a quick brush and some fragments of leaves fall out. I notice my hands are dirty too, so I walk out to the kitchen sink to wash them.

When I enter, my father is sitting on the sofa, absorbed in his own thoughts. As usual.

He's been like this for a while now, ever since Mom had an affair with a Peacekeeper and left us. Some days, I can hear him talking out loud to himself, often moaning about the state of the house or what to have for tea. Things that Mom would moan about. Used to moan about. I guess he misses her, like I do. But at least I've gotten over it, unlike him, who spends most of his time sitting quietly.

I don't speak to him as I walk past, heading to the sink. I turn the tap and trickles of cold water come out, cleansing my hands and washing the off the dirt.

Glancing at the clock, I realise that the reaping starts in five minutes. Saxon and I must have been out for longer than I'd thought.

"Aren't you gonna be late?" My dad finally speaks.

"Yeah, forgot the time" I say, putting on my shoes. "I've gotta run; you coming?"

He shakes his head. "I'll meet you there"

"Fine. Bye then" I say, walking out the door.

Saxon chases after me, licking at my heels.

"Sorry, Saxon, you can't come with me now. Just wait here for me, ok?" I tell him.

His ears drop lower, but he barks obediently and runs back in the direction of home.

As I'm already late, I run to the main centre. We don't live too far away, so I manage to get there just as the Treaty of Treason is being spoken.

Quickly signing in, I slip into the appropriate group and try to avoid the stares I'm receiving. There's a few tutters from the people around me, but I just concentrate on the stage.

Goldie Templeton, District seven's representative, is just selecting the girl tribute. I'm not worried for anyone, as I have no siblings or friends apart from Saxon, so all my dread concentrates on myself.

The girl is announced and she heads up to the stage, Arya her name is. Seeing that she knows she'll probably be dead in a few weeks, she seems pretty calm. Unlike me, as I'm feeling so nervous that I'm starting to sweat.

"Ok then, ladies and gentlemen, let us move on to our male tribute!" Goldie announces, silencing the crowd.

She reaches in and pulls out a slip.

"And our boy tribute is... Phosphorus Vox!" She smiles. "What an interesting name"

It is an interesting name and I've always liked being interesting. But right now, I wish it wasn't my name.

Annabeth Rylie, District 8 POV

I stand in front of the mirror. A girl, skinny and blonde, stares back. She doesn't look like much on the outside, dressed in a plain brown skirt and a crumpled white blouse that hangs limply around her almost none-existent waist. When she turns to the side, she notices a small rip in the skirt.

I sigh heavily. "Great. Out of all the days, my skirt decides to be faulty on reaping day"

I slip the skirt down my legs and place it on my bed. Pulling open a drawer, I root around for my sewing kit. I find it easily enough, there aren't many possessions in the drawer, and I take it over and sit on the bed. I pick up the skirt and rub the soft material in my fingers, my thumb poking through the hole like a worm on a wet day.

It doesn't take long for me to match the colour up roughly and thread the needle. I pierce the material and weave the thread in and out, up and down. With District 8's industry being textiles, I picked up the hobby of sewing, and actually, I'm quite good at it. The needle easily glides between the fibres of the fabric and the gap is closed within a few minutes.

Holding the skirt out in front of me, I can barely see that there was a rip. The stitches are so small and narrow that I'm impressed with myself. Quickly, I slide back into the skirt and decide to tie my mad curls in a ponytail.

Now I look in the mirror. This time, a girl, smart and intelligent, stares back. She looks important. Just like the girls I read about. The ones who solve crimes, save the world and win the perfect guy. I may not be able to solve crimes, nor save the world, but I may be able to win the guy. Maybe.

"Annabeth! Will's here!" My Mother calls up to me.

I quickly adjust my hair and run out to the front door, smiling. My perfect guy stands outside, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Anna" Will says, accepting my hug. "You look nice"

I feel myself blush.

"Thanks" I say, then add, "You too"

And he does. He looks _very_ nice.

"You ready to go?" He asks.

I nod. "What about Lila?"

"She's meeting us halfway" He replies, holding out his hand.

"Oh right. Sure, let's go then" I say, taking his hand.

His skin feels soft against mine, the warmth radiating off and making me feel hot inside. I try my best not to blush as we walk down the street, still hand in hand. Although we're holding hands, we're not an item...yet. Will's just a friend and holding hands is his way of showing friendship. It's nice, but I can't help wishing that it meant something else. I wish it meant that he loved me. Not as a friend. As a girlfriend.

I've had a crush on Will for as long as I can remember. From that first day we became friends, I instantly fell in love with him. I think it was his lopsided grin that caught my heart first. And it still does, stop my heart, whenever he smiles. We've been friends since we were five. So, ten years I've known him and I've still never told him that I love him. I wish I could, but I'm way to shy for that. What if he doesn't love me back? I can't ruin this friendship.

Halfway to the reaping, Lila joins us, creating our three-some. She is my other best friend and all, but I kinda liked walking with just Will. Just walking, not talking.

"So, are you both nervous?" Lila asks, taking my other arm and linking hers through.

Will shrugs. "Yeah, a bit I suppose. My name isn't in there that many times, though"

"Hmm, mine's in there about ten times, I think" Lila says, chewing her top lip in thought. "What about you, Anna; how many times is yours in?"

I look to the ground. "Twenty seven, I think. I had to take tesserae, Takai isn't old enough yet"

Will squeezes my hand. "Don't worry, lots of girls have their names in over forty times. They have a much bigger chance of being chosen"

"Thanks" I smile at him.

My smile fades soon after. We've arrived.

It seems like we got here just in time, it's pretty busy and the signing in queue is quite short. As soon as Will lets go of my hand, it starts to shake. He notices and grabs my arms.

"It's ok, Anna. Calm down, I'm here"

"You won't be for much longer. You won't be there when the names are chosen" I say, my lip quivering.

"I won't be far, I promise. You'll be able to see me, I'll make sure" He promises.

"But..but, my name...it's in there more than last year!"

"I know, I know. Don't panic though, that will only make it worse" He lets go of my arms. "Look, I'd gotta go get to my group. I'll see you later"

He walks away and Lila takes my hand instead.

"He's right, Anna" She says, walking with me to our group. "And I'm here with you"

I nod and channel my breathing. They're right.

We stand, hands linked, all through the Treaty of Treason. I keep looking over to the boys side and catch Will's eye a few times. He keeps smiling at me, mouthing that everything will be ok. I'm just mouthing something to him when everyone goes still.

I look to the front and see that the girl's name is about to be chosen. I'm quite far behind, but I can just see the slip of paper being pulled from the bowl. My stomach flips as the slip is unfolded and the name is revealed.

"And your District eight female representative for the 500th Games is..."

I hold my breath.

"Annabeth Rylie!"

I choke on the air inside my mouth.

"Come on then, where are you Annabeth?"

"Here" I answer, raising my hand.

"Up you come then"

I lower my hand and walk towards the stage. As I pass Will's row, I flick my eyes to look at him. He looks shocked, but manages an encouraging smile. An encouraging smile from Will is enough to get me to the stage without shedding a tear.

It's enough for me to do anything.

Guthrie Zython, District 8 POV

"I think this is the last one" I say, placing the box next to the others.

"Thanks Guthrie dear, you've been a great help" Mom says, standing in the doorway.

"No problem, I like to help out where I can" I say.

"And that's why you're the perfect son" She smiles, holding her arms out.

I walk over and let her hug me, her thin arms stretching across my broad back and squeezing me tightly. She holds me for a while and a droplet of wet drips onto my shoulder.

"Mom, are you crying?" I ask her.

She wipes her damp eyes with the back of her hand. "Of course not"

"Yes you are, I can see the damp in your eyes" I say.

She gives a soft sigh. "It's just that time of year again. It comes around too quickly"

I glance to the ground, knowing what 'it' is. The reaping. Mom never likes to say the word, so she just says 'it'. Personally, I think 'it' makes it sound even worse, but I'll stick with whatever Mom prefers. That's just how everything goes anyway; I'm always doing what's best for my Mom. It's always been that way and always will. Mom comes first, now that I'm older.

"Don't stress about it, Mom. I'm sure it won't be me. Seriously, what are the odds?" I say, attempting to reassure her.

"Yes, but-" She tries.

"But nothing, Mom. You go and get yourself ready; I'll tidy these boxes up a little" I tell her, shooing her inside.

She obeys and closes the door gently behind her. Then, I turn back to the boxes. There's seven of them, all waiting patiently for someone to sort them out. Some of the corners have been battered from being hauled around the District and the cardboard is scratched generously. So much for the _fragile_ sticker.

I untape one of the boxes and peer inside, checking that it's the right delivery. Inside, there's a cluster of sewing threads of all different shades of blue, brown, green. I dip my hand in, rooting around and counting the reels of thread. The order said there were thirty five, but I can only see thirty three...

"Hey, Guthrie" A high pitched female voice comes from behind me.

I pull my hand out and turn around. Standing, dressed in a rather short dress, is Penelope. My _ex_ girlfriend; emphasis on the ex.

"Oh... Penelope.. What a surprise to see you today.." I say, trying to act surprised. Although I'm not. Not in the slightest bit surprised. She practically stalks me. Some days I swear she sits outside my house, waiting for me to come out. Honestly, she's mental. How difficult is it to understand the words '_we are not dating anymore'_?

"Yeah, well I was just passing by and I saw you. Thought it would be rude not to say hello" She smiles.

Of course, just passing by. Her favourite expression. How come she's always 'just passing by'? And come to think of it, why doesn't she just live next door? She practically spends all her life walking down this street.

"Ah, well you've said hello now" I say, subtly hinting for her departure.

"Yes, I have. But I haven't even asked how you are!" She exclaims, clearly not taking the hint. "So, Guthrie, how are you?"

"I'm fine Penelope, just fine" I say. "What about yourself?"

"Normally I would say good, but obviously not today!" She says.

Yeah, because she so looks worried about the reaping...

"The reaping, I'm presuming?" I ask.

She nods. "Yeah, I'm really nervous. Feel my hands, they're shaking"

Without hesitation, she thrusts her hands into mine, giving me now choice but to feel her nervousness. I nod in agreement and try pulling my hands back, but she clings on to my wrists.

"Oh Guthrie, why don't you walk with me? I need someone with me; to reassure me that I won't be chosen" She whines.

I struggle under her tight grip. "Urm, I would, but you see I'm... um, I'm walking with someone else" I quickly pretend.

Her grip loosens a little and I slide my hands away. "Who?"

"Erm... my, erm, Mom" I answer.

Penelope runs to the window of my house and calls. "Guthrie's Mom! Guthrie has promised to walk me to the reaping, so he said he'll meet you there!"

She pauses for a moment, listening to a reply, then comes bounding back to me, glowing with pleasure.

"Right, all sorted. You're Mom said she'll walk round with your Dad and see you there in a few minutes" She tells me. "Now we can walk together"

I'm about to protest against the idea, but she slides her arm to link with mine and starts walking.

"Um, Penelope. Are you sure this-" I begin, before I'm interrupted.

"This is nice, isn't it? You and me walking together; it's like we're back together!" She says, leaning her head into my arm.

That's the last straw.

"No, Penelope, it is not nice. We are not walking together and we are certainly _not back together_" I say sternly, shaking her off my arm.

Penelope looks shocked and her bottom lip starts to quiver. "I didn't mean it like that... I just thought.."

"Just _thought? _I haven't given you any signals at all and you just presumed?" I say back.

"No, it's just that we keep seeing each other lately and you seem..." She trails off.

"No wonder we've been seeing each other a lot; you've been _stalking_ me!" I say, raising my voice slightly.

She gasps. "I haven't been doing anything of the sort! You're just lying because you don't want to admit you want me back!"

Wow, this girl needs some serious help.

"I don't want you back!" I retort.

"Well I don't want you back either!" She yells, turning away and running from me at top speed.

I stare at thin air for a while, processing what just happened, then carry on walking.

I arrive at the reaping soon later and thankfully, there's no sign of Penelope. She's probably weeping on someone's shoulder, playing the poor ex girlfriend act. Not that anyone would buy it; she's a nutter.

I sign in and head over to the rest of the seventeen year old boys. My best mate, Jamar, is waiting for me.

"Hey, Jamar" I greet him. "You would not believe what just happened"

"Let me guess, Penelope again?" He says. "Dude, I don't know why you used to date her"

"No, neither do I. She's a total weirdo; way too clingy" I laugh.

Jamar laughs a little, then collapses into a state of silence.

I notice that he's seeming a little thinner than normal, and his skin looks quite pale.

"Jamar? Are you alright?" I ask him, concerned.

He gives a brief sigh. "So and so, I guess. It's hard work looking after Mom while Dad's out working all the hours God sends him"

Oh yeah, his Mom's really ill. Of course he's not alright.

"Oh, sorry about that. Is she getting any better?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, not really. Doctor reckons that the chances of her getting better any time soon are pretty slim. We're looking at a few more months before she shows any signs of recovery"

I feel a pang of guilt for Jamar. Here's me going on about my ex girlfriend problems, while he has a seriously ill Mom. What kind of a friend am I?

There's no more time to chat, as the anthem starts and the reaping begins. I watch silently as the girl is reaped; someone I'm not familiar with, then wait as the boy is about to be chosen. The slip is opened slowly, killing us all with impatience and dread. Us boys always try to look tougher, but deep down, we're all just as nervous as anyone.

"And our slip says our male tribute this year is... Jamar Kanning!"

Oh no. Not Jamar. He can't be reaped. His Mom needs him. She'll get even worse without him. None of his younger siblings can care for her like Jamar does. They'll all crumble without him. No, no, no. This can't be happening.

Without thinking, I leap in front of Jamar, blocking his path. "I volunteer as tribute!"

Jamar looks at me, horrified. He doesn't say anything, he seems to shocked, so he just stares at me.

"It's ok, Jamar. You have your Mom, she needs you" I whisper to him. "I'll be ok"

I won't be ok. But he doesn't need to know that now.

* * *

**A/N- Ok, these characters are quite different! But what do you think of them all? Do you think Arya's defiance for the Capitol will help her in the arena? What about Phosphorus, do you think he has some hidden skills? Do you think Will likes Annabeth too and will his memory help her through this? And finally, what do you think about Guthrie volunteering?**

**As usual, let me know anything you think about these characters! Let me know if I wrote them well! Thanks to all who submitted these tributes, I love them!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	5. Reapings: District 9 and 10

**A/N- Ok, firstly I'd like to thank all my readers, especially the ones that have reviewed! Hey... that's a hint to all you that haven't reviewed yet... And an extra special fabulous great thanks to those who submitted tributes and I'm glad you like the way I've written them :D Here is our next installment of characters! Enjoy x**

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Elodie Torelli, District 9 POV

I sit on the window ledge, a strand of hair twisted around my finger, watching the world go by. Watching the clouds drift across the sky, forming pictures and symbols. One of them looks like a rabbit and I smile to myself; I like rabbits. I'm watching the wind rustle through the leaves on the trees, some of them resisting, but some of them disconnecting and falling softly to the ground below. I also watch groups of children, families, old and young, happy and sad. They al look different, but they have one thing in common: they're heading for the reaping.

I sigh and look back to the clouds, the white fluffy clouds. I wish I was a cloud. Wish I could just fly way above the world, changing shape and drifting by without a care in the world. If I were a cloud I wouldn't have to worry about the reaping.

Alas, I am not a cloud and I'm sitting dressed in a lilac skirt and white blouse, my hair hanging way down to my waist. I don't want to move. I don't want to go to the reaping. I might get chosen. I might die.

My lip is quivering when there's a small knock at the door and my mother walks in.

"Elodie? It's time to go" She tells me.

"I'm coming" I reply, waiting until she's gone again and I'm left alone with the window.

I look back outside, seeing a group of small children skip past, shrieking and messing around with another, smiles on their faces. If only they knew what today was really about. Not dressing up and gathering together as a District, but the day when two of us teens are picked to leave home and fight in an arena, until the death. Yeah not everyone dies, someone wins, but the likelihood of a Victor from District 9 is quite rare. Almost impossible. No-one ever wins from here; the last Victor was about twenty years ago and he only just scraped through. The odds of someone like me are even lower. That's why I know that if I get reaped, I'm dead for sure. One hundred percent.

"Elodie! Get away from that window, we're leaving!" Mother shouts to me.

I breathe heavily and make my way downstairs, missing the window already. When I get down, my parents are all ready and waiting for me, impatient looks on their faces.

"Sorry" I mumble, slipping on my shoes and stepping outside with them.

They whisper something between them and I walk over to my brother. My twin brother.

"Hey, El. You ok?" Zephyr asks, touching my arm.

I shrug. "It's the reaping, am I supposed to be ok?"

"You're not supposed to be anything but yourself" He says, squeezing my shoulders. "Look, everything will be fine, the chances of your name being pulled out are slim"

"And yours?"

"Same as you"

I shrug again and he takes my hand, leading us down the road. I'm more nervous than ever as we reach the reaping grounds. The stage looms ahead and the ground below is swarming with people. Everyone.

I stop walking.

"El? Are you ok?" Zephyr asks, looking at me in a concerned way.

I shake my head, my throat too dry to answer with words. My mouth feels like sandpaper, dry and scratchy. I find it hard to swallow without feeling pain and a lump is beginning to grow inside. My stomach is churning so bad, I could easily throw up. And my head is spinning, the world blurring in front of my eyes.

"El, it's ok. Your name is only in there a few times, it won't be you" Zephyr tries to explain.

Although, it's not the reaping that scares me now. It's the people. Swarms and swarms of people everywhere, bumping into one another. The screams, the cries, the good lucks. It's all too much and I can't deal with it. I find it hard enough to cope with a few people, but crowds like this. No way. No way.

"Come on, let's get you signed in" Zephyr takes my arm, pulling me towards the signing in desks.

The lady behind the table looks at me. "Name?"

I stare at her, my mind frozen.

"Name?" She repeats, glaring holes into my head.

Zephyr steps forwards. "She's Elodie Torelli; she's just a little scared, that's all"

She hesitates for a moment, as if to think it over. Then she scans down her list and ticks me off.

"And you are?" She turns to Zephyr.

"Zephyr Torelli" He tells her.

"Hm, twins I'm presuming?" She says, examining us both.

Zephyr nods and begins to take me again. We walk through the aisle between the two sides. Girls on one side, boys on the other. This is where we split.

"El, we have to go stand in our groups, ok? I'll only be here and you'll be able to see me" He says reassuringly. "Go stand with Flow, she'll stay with you"

I nod a little shakily and walk beside Flow. She greets me with a smile and mouths something to Zephyr.

"Hey Elodie! Are you ok?" She asks, still smiling.

"Not really, no" I mumble, but there's no time for a reply, as the anthem begins and the reaping for the 500th Games commences.

I manage to make it through the speech without spilling out my insides. Barely, though. But I begin shaking violently as the girl's name is drawn out. It's going to be me. It's me, I know it. My name is on that slip. I'm going to be read out. I'm going to die.

"Elodie Torelli!"

I puke.

Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV

"Hi, Zephyr"

I sit up from the grass and look up, the sun shining in my eyes. I blink a few times to adjust to the brightness. A girl stands before me, her long blonde hair rippling in the soft breeze.

"Oh hi, Violet" I smile.

"You know my name?" She blushes, flicking a fly off her tanned, bare arm.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" I say, slightly confused.

"I dunno, well you're you and I'm just... me" She shrugs.

"I'm just as normal as anyone else" I point out, chuckling a little.

"I suppose" She says, sitting down on the grass beside me. "So, are you nervous about the reaping?"

"Me, nervous?" I joke. "Well, I suppose there is a chance that I could be reaped, but I don't like it to bother me so much. I'm just worried about Elodie"

"Yeah, she is a little quiet"

"Hmm, so are you nervous then?"

"Yeah, very"

"You don't have any siblings, right?"

"No, so I don't have to worry about anyone else really, which is good I guess" She sighs. "But I don't have anyone to talk to today, all my friends have brothers or sisters, so I'm left alone"

"You're talking to me"

"Oh yeah..." She starts giggling at herself.

"I'll be your brother for the morning, if you'd like" I offer.

"Sure" She says. "Do brothers give hugs?"

I hold my arms out. "They sure do"

Violet smiles and wraps her arms round my back, nuzzling her face in my shoulder. Her breath is warm against my neck and I can feel her heart beating beneath her skin.

When she draws away, she stays so that her face is inches from mine.

"Do brothers give.. kisses?" She asks innocently.

"Not usually... but I might make an exception today" I reply, moving in.

"Zephyr!" My father's call stops us.

Violet blushes even redder than before and stands up.

"Sorry, I'd best get going and let you go in" She says, waving goodbye.

I wave to her as she walks away, her small hips wiggling and her hair swishing behind her. I grin and head to meet my father.

"Who was that?" My mother asks as I come in.

"Oh, just a friend" I reply casually.

"Didn't look like just a friend to me" She mumbles, rooting around in the cupboard under the stairs. "Where _are_ my shoes?"

"They're here" I say, passing her the shoes that were just sitting by the door.

"Oh, thanks" She says, taking them and slipping her feet into them.

My father walks into the room. "Elodie's taking her time up there; we called her ten minutes ago"

"You know what she's like" My mother sighs, adjusting her hat.

I nod. I do know what she's like; quiet, absent minded and extremely shy. She's always sitting in a trance, looking out of her bedroom window, watching the world go by. She's never had any friends, apart from me, and only speaks on rare occasions. The complete opposite to me. Sometimes I wonder if we even are twins...

Footsteps on the stairs and Elodie comes down. Again, she seems distracted and in a daze. A world of her own. And she stays that way as we walk to the reaping.

I try making conversation with her, to ease the awkward silence, but she either ignores me or just nods her head in reply. As I said, she rarely speaks.

As soon as we reach the square, her daze turns into a nervous breakdown. She starts violently shaking and blinking so fast it looks as her eyes are permanently closed.

"Calm down Elodie" I try to calm her, speaking softly and rubbing her arm to let her know I'm here.

It works for a while, until we're separated into our groups. Then she starts clinging onto my arm and it takes me some effort to prize her nails out of my flesh. She has a strong grip.

As I stand with within the group of fifteen year old boys, I start feeling guilty for leaving her. It's not my fault though, but even so, I feel bad. She has no friends to hold her hand, or tell her everything will be ok. I had to ask a friend of mine to stand with her, but she seems fairly comfortable with her, so that eases my conscience.

All through the speeches, I keep flickering my eyes over to her. She seems to be struggling. Her face has flushed out even paler than before, and I swear I can see her hands shaking like a leaf. Just a few little minutes left until the girl's reaping is over and she can relax again.

Our representative pulls out the slip from the girls' bowl. I know that whoever is read out, I will know them. I know everyone pretty much; I'm a very sociable kinda guy. I just hope that it isn't one of my closer friends, like Flow or Courtney.

"And our female tribute is... Elodie Torelli!"

Oh my god. Not Elodie. Anyone but Elodie. This can't be happening. This isn't happening. Elodie can't deal with this, she'll die before it even starts.

I try to force my way through the crowds, but Peacekeepers block my path. I can see Elodie just behind, throwing up all over the floor. I need to get to her, now, but no-one will let me through.

"Elodie!" I yell. "Let me through, I need to get to her!"

They shake their heads and start pushing me back. I try my best to resist, but five Peacekeepers against one fifteen year old boy isn't quite a fair fight. They push me further back, increasing the distance between me and my sister.

"Well, while we wait for our female tribute to erm... stop spewing her breakfast, let's move on to the boys!" An announcement comes from the stage. "And our male tribute is..."

"I volunteer!" I scream before the name is called. "I volunteer, I volunteer, I volunteer!"

Saying this, the Peacekeepers move and let me through. I run straight to Elodie, who is making her way up the stage, finally finished throwing up. She looks at me, horrified as I reach her side.

"Zephyr, why did you volunteer?" She asks me weakly.

"Remember that promise I made when we were twelve?" I ask her. "I said that I'd never let you go through anything alone, remember?"

She nods, tears dripping down her sickly coloured face. "I remember"

"Good, because this is me keeping that promise"

Rhea Blakemore, District 10 POV

"Willow! Just stay still for one minute while I do your hair!" I yell impatiently at my ten year old sister.

She gives her head a swift shake and skips out of the room.

Throwing down the hairbrush, I race out after her. She's almost outside now, her hair flowing messily behind her. Luckily, I'm much faster at running, so I stop her before she disappears again. She's already gotten herself briefly missing once this morning, but I managed to find her trying to stroke a neighbour's pig. She was coated in thick, sticky mud and I had to wash her down, yet again.

Gripping her wrist tightly, I drag her back inside and sit her firmly down on a small wooden chair, which is broken of course; just like everything else in this house. Broken and too expensive to fix.

"Right, Willow. I will not tolerate this behaviour; not today. And do you know why?" I tell her sharply.

She gulps and mumbles quietly. "Today is the reaping"

"Exactly" I nod. "Now, sit still while I do your hair"

She gives a small obedient no and I pick up the brush once more. Generally, it glides down her long hair, occasionally tugging at a small knot. I try to be gentle, but she still moans a little and makes me apologise for _'being rough'. _Once I've brushed it all so it shimmers when she shakes her head, I take a tattered piece of faded pink ribbon and tie it in.

"Now, that wasn't hard, was it?" I ask her.

"No" She replies almost silently, as if she doesn't want to admit defeat.

"Well, I'm going to do my own hair now. You just stay here and be a good girl, ok?" I say.

For a short moment, I think she's actually obeying me, but then she hops off the chair and runs out the room.

I sigh and shout to her. "Willow! Come back here right now!"

She doesn't shout back, so I sigh heavily and walk over to the door. Just as I'm about to go and find her, Conan enters with Willow swung over his shoulder.

"I found this little one trying to escape" He says, putting Willow down. "She giving you a hard time again?"

"Oh, just the usual" I shrug.

He turns to Willow and crouches to her level. "Today is a really important day and your sister and I really need you to be on your best behaviour, ok?"

"Ok Conan" She smiles sweetly.

"Good. Now go put your shoes on ready"

Willow does as she's told and begins slipping her feet into her shoes. Her worn out shoes; we can't afford any nicer ones.

Conan comes over to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Hey, you ok?"

"Not bad, just a little stressed" I sigh. "But much better now you're here to calm Willow. I don't know how you do it; she hates me"

"She doesn't hate you" He tells me. "She just misses our parents. We all do"

"Yeah, things would be so much easier if they were here"

"But they're not and they'd expect us to be brave"

"How can I when there's the reaping to worry about? I mean, what if you're chosen; I can't cope without you"

"Just keep faith"

Those are the last words he says to me that morning. We're to occupied with Willow to talk much else. She's calmed down a little, but still insists on being carried to the reaping even though she's ten and is getting quite heavy. Conan doesn't seem to mind, so he gives her a piggyback ride to the main square. I can't stop myself from staring at him in admiration. How does he keep so calm about the reaping? How does he seem to always be happy, no matter what the situation? He's always cheering everyone up and everybody loves him, including Willow. But then there's me; the one who tries and never succeeds. I've tried to look after Willow, be the mother figure she needs, but I can't. Every time I look at her, I see my parents. And when I see my parents in her eyes, I remember what life was with them. Then I'll wake up and realise that they're not here and never will be.

"Name please?" A voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I blink a few times and realise that I'm at the front of the signing-in queue.

"Oh, erm, Rhea Blakemore" I tell the woman at the desk.

She scrolls down the list and finds my name, ticking it off and directing me to my appropriate group. As I'm walking, I look around for Conan. I spot him soon enough, chatting away to some of the other lads, oblivious to me staring at him, wishing I could talk to him. Someone behind me coughs sharply and I quickly begin walking again. I stand with the other girls my age and wait.

The reaping begins quite soon, so I get to avoid the awkward chit-chat with the other fourteen year old girls who share nothing in common with me. They're always talking about boyfriends and annoying parents. Firstly, I don't have a boyfriend and don't particularly want one. And secondly, I don't have any parents.

The annual speeches on stage are the same boring words about how great the Capitol is and so on. I've only been entered in three reapings (this my third) and I already know pretty much the whole speech. However, I wish it would go on forever and ever, that way the reaping would be held off for at least another few minutes. I'm not ready for it yet.

Alas, it comes soon enough and I stand completely still, although my lip trembles a little.

"Rhea Blakemore!"

It's as if someone has just chopped my legs off, and nothing is supporting my from below my waist. I want to fall over and lie on the floor. Never getting up. But I have to get up. I have to accept my fate and get myself up to that stage, fighting the tears. And the nerves, biting at my mind, my body. They want to drag me down again. Chew me up until I'm nothing but a tangled mess and spit me out in pieces.

But one glance at Conan pulls me out of this whirlwind of nerves and thoughts of death.

_Just keep faith._

Yeah, I'm not going to let my mind tear me apart. I'm going to keep some faith. For Conan and Willow's sake.

Horacio Francis, District 10 POV

I converge my eyes on the formula. The solid, matt black ink formed concoction of letters and numbers appear to jump of the white page. They taunt my brain, laughing while I struggle to solve the formula. The answer is itching at the back of my mind; I know it's there, but it refuses to surface. My grip on the pencil tightens and I can feel the blood pulsating in my veins. The cogs in my brain are whirling and my eyes are nearly popping out of their sockets. I would be in danger of losing them, if it weren't for the glass walls that shield them.

My knee begins to twitch, my leg virtually bouncing off the ground. My finger tips are tingling from the strain I'm forcing on to them. My teeth are biting at my lip. I know the answer. It's somewhere in my head, it's just waiting for me to realise. I'm going to find it any second now. Just a tiny bit more thinking, more brain work. More action.

"X equals seven point two!" I yell, swinging my arms in the air with triumph, but loosening my grip on the pencil and letting it fly across the room.

It lands on the chest of drawers and begins to roll. Leaping out of my chair, I sprint across the room to save it, but I'm too late and the pencil falls down the back.

"Horacio!" Someone calls up to me. "What on earth are you doing up there? We're going to be late!"

I refrain from sticking my arm behind the chest of drawers and sigh. The answer will have to remain in my head until I get back home to write it down. I'm sure I won't forget that x equals seven point two... wait, or was it point three? It could have been point two-three... or three-two. It might not even be seven... Oh this is great. Just great.

"Horacio!" They call up again, sounding impatient.

"Ok, I'm coming!" I shout down, forgetting the pencil.

I grab my tie on the way out and walk into the hallway. My parents and older brother, Richie, are standing, looking rather annoyed.

"We called you fifteen minutes ago" My father says. "_Fifteen minutes_"

"Sorry, I was working on a formula; I'd almost cracked it" I say, apologetically.

"A formula? For goodness sake Horacio; you've put us behind schedule all because of a stupid _formula_!" Father exclaims, his face flushed slightly red.

It's not stupid. It's a complex mathematical equation, one that only the most intelligent of mathematicians can solve. And I just solved it. Well, solved it and forgot it again. Damn that pencil.

"Don't be too harsh on him, Jerric. You know how keen he is on maths" My mother says, defending my honour.

My father rolls his eyes. "Too keen"

I hold back the urge to retort back to him, instead I put on my shoes and open the front door.

"Shall we go then?" I ask, impatient to get out of this house, even if the only other place to go is the reaping.

My father mutters something under his breath and my mother gives him a sharp glare, then they both follow me out. We walk fairly quickly to the main square, my father striding forwards, while me and my mother walk behind.

"He doesn't mean it, he's just a little stressed at the moment" Mother tells me in a hushed voice. "You know what he gets like at this time of year"

I nod. "He never got over his best friend, did he?"

"No, he pretends to have forgotten, but we all know he's still upset about it all. As any other person would be if their best friend died in the Games" She replies.

"Well I don't have to worry about that, I have no friends" I shrug.

"Oh, Horacio, you have me. I'm your best friend, aren't I?"

"You're my Mom"

"I can still be your best friend as well"

I smile at her thankfully. "Yes, I suppose you can"

She holds out her arm and I link mine through. I may be seventeen, but I love my Mom to bits. Besides, the bullies can't pick on me any more than they do now.

We walk, linking, until we reach the queue to sign in.

"Right, off you go then. We'll meet you by that lamppost afterwards" My father says, slapping me on the back in a some sort of goodbye gesture.

He's not really a hugging person, nor one for goodbyes either.

"Bye Horacio. Remember not to worry, you haven't signed up for tesserae this year" My mother says, rubbing my forearms. "I'll see you later. Good luck"

"Bye, Mom" I say, giving her a quick hug.

I wave to her as she and my father walk away to stand with the other adults and younger children. As I turn around to queue up for signing in, I almost crash into another boy. I say boy, but he's more like a man; he's huge and mean. And his favourite thing to is pick on other boys. His personal choice being me.

"Oh, look who it is, the Maths Moron waving goodbye to his Mommy" Tristan says patronizingly.

Maths Moron... the nickname I was blessed with in third grade, when I discovered that I loved numbers. Sadly, no-one else did and then the nickname was born, I guess. I've grown up with it pretty much my whole life now. It's not that bad actually, when you put it in perspective. It could be worse. Besides, it uses alliteration, so it's got some value.

"Leave me alone" I mumble, trying to get past his large body.

He takes a side step and blocks my path, laughing his monstrous laugh. "Going so soon? I though we could stay and chat awhile"

"Please, I've got to sign in" I say, trying again to move past.

This time, he lets me past and I breathe a sigh of relief. That wasn't too bad, I was expecting him to become a human wall or something. Wow, manners _do_ get you around these days.

Feeling a little more confident and proud of myself, I walk up to the sign-in desk. The woman sitting behind looks terribly enthusiastic. Sarcasm.

"Name?" She asks in a flat tone.

I open my mouth to answer, but someone speaks instead. "His name is Maths Moron, miss"

I swing around and see Tristan grinning maliciously to me.

The woman gives us both a blank look and repeats. "Name?"

Tristan turns to me and sighs. "Oh, what a shame. It seems that you're not on the list"

Doing my best to ignore his comment, I whisper to the woman. "My name is Horacio Francis"

She finds my name on the list and checks it off, then directing me to my group. I work out that I have about three and a half seconds before Tristan signs in and comes after me. Three point five seconds head start, in my mind. Taking advantage of this tiny head start, I begin to walk at a faster pace, eager to escape him.

I'm about a metre away from my group when a hand grabs my shoulder, spinning me around.

"Hey, moron, don't walk away from me" Tristan snarls at me.

"I wasn't...I was just...erm..." I stutter, feeling a little scared under his firm grip.

"Fancied a little stroll, eh?" He sneers. "Well, I'm sure a 'stroll' will be the last thing you'll wanna do after I'm finished with you"

"Oh no, please not now, not here" I beg, squirming.

"Why, afraid your Mommy might see her little baby get hurt?" He says.

"Tristan, please, I'm begging you" I plead to him. "Let me go"

"Oh, I'll let you go when-" He says, but his words are cut off by a sharp cough.

I look up to see a girl standing behind us, her hands folded tightly across her chest and her face firm as a rock.

"Tristan, let. Him. Go." She orders.

Tristan laughs. "And why would I do that?"

"Because if you don't, I'll tell Isobel that you slept with Willa last weekend" She threatens.

Tristan's face turns white and his grip loosens on my shoulder. "How did you..?"

"None of your business, jerk. Just let Horacio go, or else I'll spill the beans" She replies, clearly not intimidated by the giant.

"Alright, I'll let him go" He gives in, releasing my shoulder. "Just don't say anything to Isobel"

She glares at him until he backs away and joins the group of eighteen year old boys. Once he's out of sight, she starts to turn and walk away. I run after her.

"Wait, Elina!" I call.

She whirls around. "What?"

"Um, thanks for that. I erm.. really appreciate it" I say, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, no worries. He needs to be knocked down a peg or two" She smiles. "Well, good luck and all that"

And saying that, she leaves. I watch her walking away, her gorgeous golden hair swinging behind. I sigh. She's beautiful, too beautiful. Someone like her would never look twice at someone like me, yet she's just rescued me from Tristan... Why would she do that? Does that mean she likes me? Or does she just want something to hold over me for life? Maths is as easy as breathing and physics as easy as saying the alphabet, but there's one thing my brain cannot understand. How a girl's mind works.

Now safe from bullies, I stand and await the reaping. Throughout the speeches, I occupy myself with a maths problem; working out the mathematical probability of my name being drawn. As the girl is chosen, I wonder what the probability of her name being chosen was. Was it higher than mine? Or was she just unlucky? That's the thing with the reaping, it's all a game of luck. The reaping is totally random and no-one can predict who's name will be chosen. Even if you're name is in there once or forty times, you still don't know.

"Ok then District Ten, let's see who is going to join Rhea!"

Am I a lucky person?

"And, joining her is... Horacio Francis!"

Answer to previous problem: I am not a lucky person.

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**A/N- Rightio ho, that's them all done. I only have one more reaping left to write and once that is done, I will post up the last reapings for District 11 and 12!**

**So, your views on these characters? Let me know what you think. How far do you reckon Elodie would have lasted alone? And did Zephyr do the right thing by volunteering? What about Rhea, how strong can she be without Conan? And finally, Horacio, do you feel sorry for him? (I know I do!)**

**So yup, next reapings will be up maybe tomorrow or day after. Thanks to everyone who submitted these characters!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	6. Reapings: District 11 and 12

**A/N- I have finally finished all the reapings, woop! They took a loooonnnggg time, but you seem to be liking them, so I guess it was worth it! Right, so here are our last 4 tributes... I hope you like them x**

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Luna Damion, District 11 POV

I pull up the last menacing weed and sit back on my heels, exhausted. The heat from the sun doesn't help either, causing my back to drip with sweat. I throw the weed into the bucket along with all the others and wipe my forehead. Standing, I grab the handle of the bucket and walk over to the compost heap by the side of the house. I empty the contents on the heap and wipe the clumps of mud that fall on my t-shirt.

I take the bucket back round to the front of house and knock on the door. It opens and Mrs Mulberry appears in the doorway.

"All done; every single weed is gone" I state, handing her back the now empty bucket.

"Wow, I'm impressed Miss Damion. That was pretty quick weeding" She smiles, fumbling in her pocket. "Aha, here you go; today's wages"

She hands me some coins, they're a little sweaty from her pocket, but I gratefully accept them.

"Thanks Mrs Mulberry" I say, counting the coins. I pause for a moment and recount them. "Oh, you've given me too much"

I try to hand her the extra money, but she plunges her hands into her pockets and refuses to take them.

"No, no, no. You've earned it" She says.

"I can't take all this from you" I protest, trying again to hand her some coins.

"Yes you can, and you will. Use the extra to buy something nice for your little sister for the reaping" She tells me.

"Oh thank you ever so much Mrs Mulberry, you're so kind"

"And you're a nice girl" She replies, smiling. "Hurry up then, you don't want to be late"

"Ok, thanks again" I say. "Bye!"

"Bye dear! And good luck!" Mrs Mulberry calls after me, as I run to the market.

By the time I get there, most people have started packing up for the reaping. I begin to think I'm out of luck, when I suddenly spot a gorgeous dress still out on sale. Quickly, I run over to the stall and ask the person behind the counter how much it costs. He replies and I check the coins in my palm. I have plenty enough to buy it, with money left over for this week's food, so I buy the dress.

It's so pretty; pale blue with little white strips of lace around the hems. It would look perfect on little Ivy and I can't wait to give it to her. She can wear it for the reaping this morning, instead of the old dress she usually wears.

The market isn't far from our little house, so I get back in minutes. Ivy is playing with our neighbour's cat when I arrive home and shouts my name when she sees me. Very clumsily, she comes running up to me and holds her arms out for a hug. I lift her up and swing her round for a few times, her squealing in delight.

"Guess what I've just bought you?" I say, carrying her into the house.

"What, what, what?" She asks me eagerly, excited as presents are rare for us.

"A new dress" I tell her, holding it up.

She gasps as she gazes up at the dress, her eyes wide with amazement. I knew she'd love it.

"Can I wear it? Please please please?" She begs me.

"Of course you can, Ivy. It's specially for today" I say.

She smiles a smile so wide that it takes up half her face. I smile back and help her into the dress. It's a perfect fit.

"Wow" She gasps, twirling around and around.

"Careful, Ivy, you don't want to get dizzy and fall over" I laugh, taking her arm to regain her balance.

"Thank you" She says, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist.

"You're welcome"

I can't do it. I can't let her go. Ivy's gripping my hand so tightly that it will be almost impossible to prize her off me. And I don't want to let her go; leave her with someone else while I wait to hear my fate for the next year. Whether I'll be here for another year, looking after Ivy. Or if I'll be dead in an arena in two weeks. Either is possible and the only thing deciding my fate is one small slip of paper. Ok, more than one, probably about ten or so. I didn't sign up for tesserae this year, as I wanted to limit my chances of being chosen. Because if I'm chosen, Ivy will be left alone. We have no family left. Our father died when I was younger, then my two sisters died from a deadly illness that killed hundreds in District 11, and if that wasn't bad enough, my only brother was killed by Peacekeepers for 'causing trouble'. By then, my mother couldn't cope anymore and she ended up committing suicide, leaving me to look after a two year old Ivy.

Ten minutes later, I've managed to convince Ivy to wait with a neighbour while I sign in. Now, I'm standing with the other girls my age, waiting as the girl's name is drawn out.

"Luna Damion" Is called out from the stage and my heart skips a beat.

"Luna Damion?" My name is repeated.

The girls around me step back and make a walkway for me to cut through the crowd. But, I'm glued to the spot and my feet won't move. It's as if time has frozen for a minute and all I can do is panic.

Who's going to look after Ivy while I'm gone? What if I die? Who will look after Ivy if I'm dead? She can't fend for herself, she's only four. I struggled and I'm sixteen. What will it be like for her? She'll die within weeks without me, days even. There must be a mistake. It can't be me. No-one would let a four year old girl be left without someone to take care of her. Would they?

Brandon Thiessen, District 11 POV

"Brandon? Is that you?" My Mom calls as I enter the house.

"Yeah, it's me" I answer back, kicking off my mud covered boots on the welcome mat. Well, the WEE mat... the other letters rubbed off.

I'm just slipping off my overshirt and hanging it up on a peg, when my Mom walks into the hallway.

"Oh, Brandon" She sighs. "Don't tell me you've been out in the fields this morning"

"Sorry, Mom, I was up early and wanted to check the crops were alright. It's hot out there" I say.

She shakes her head slowly. "It's supposed to be a day off. You didn't have to do that"

"I wanted to. We do want the best crops this summer, don't we?" I reply.

"Oh, come here my wonderful, wonderful son" She says, holding her arms out.

I accept her hug, almost crushing her petite body with my huge arms. Hugging can be quite awkward between us; with her being around 5"4 and me being 6"1... Lets just say I didn't get my size from her.

She lets me go and picks up my boots, examining my handiwork. "How you manage to get these so dirty everyday is beyond me"

I laugh and she tuts, taking the boots into the kitchen. Moments later, I can hear her scrubbing away at them, pressurising the mud to wash off. I don't know why she bothers so much, I'm just going to get them dirty again tomorrow. If there is a tomorrow in District 11 for me. It's the reaping today, hence the day off. My last year, but Lissie's first. Honestly, I'm not too bothered about myself, I just worry about Lissie. She's only twelve and her name is only in once, but there's still that teeny weeny chance and if she gets unlucky, I can't volunteer for her. Neither will anyone else, she has no older sisters and no-one volunteers in District 11, even for a twelve year old.

"Brandon? Why don't you go and check on the girls?" Mom suggests, calling from the kitchen. "They're getting ready for the reaping"

"Sure" I reply, walking in the direction of their room.

I knock softly on the door, then peep my head in.

"How are my little princesses?" I ask, walking into the room.

The three girls come running up to me, their little arms wrapping around my legs and waist. Yeah, they're quite a bit shorter than me.

I pick them up one at a time, twirling them around like aeroplanes and hearing them giggle hysterically. Louisa and Robyn seem to be a lot happier than Lissie, who stays sitting on the end of her bed, twiddling her thumbs. Once the plane rides are over, I go to sit beside her.

"Hey, budge up little princess" I say, nudging her leg gently.

Reluctantly she does and I perch myself on her small framed bed.

"So, what's up Lissie? I thought you liked the plane?" I ask her.

"Didn't feel like it" She mumbles, still twiddling her thumbs.

"Didn't feel like it? Am I hearing this right?" I exclaim, gasping.

She shrugs. "I'm not feeling well"

Ah, of course she isn't feeling well. It's her first reaping; she's bound to be feeling sick. I'm sure I did when I was her age.

"Oh, don't worry about that" I comfort her. "Princesses don't get chosen"

"But there's still a chance..." She tries.

"Nope, not for Princesses like you. You're name is only in there once. Guess how many times a girl my age is in?"

"Umm... a lot?" She gives an educated guess.

"Thirty eight" I reply. "And that's just her. There will be loads more in that bowl, Lissie, and I'm telling you now that it won't be you"

She seems a little relieved and manages a half smile. She slides off the end of the bed and looks at me expectedly. I smile and stand up, knowing what that face means. I grab her at the waist and begin swinging her around, making plane noises as she squeals.

"It tickles!" She says through mid-laugh.

I twirl her around a few more times, then set her back to the ground. The half smile has turned to a full one; teeth and all. Louisa and Robyn come running over, begging for more plane rides and bouncing excitedly, their faces lit up. I'm about to give in and let them have what they want, when Mom walks in, holding three pairs of little pumps and a large pair of freshly scrubbed boots.

"Shoes on kids, it's time to go" She says, placing the shoes on the floor.

The girls sigh, muttering about not getting their rides, but nonetheless slip their feet into their shoes.

"It's alright girls, you can all have plane rides after the reaping" I tell them, sticking on my boots.

They seem happier by this thought as they slip into their cardigans. Louisa is wearing Robyn's old one and the sleeves are a little long, falling over her hands. She tries pulling them up, but they keep sliding down again. It's these little moments that make me smile. They seem so young, being twelve, ten and eight, and so little. Then there's me; the big eighteen year old, who seems more like a father to them. I practically am the father in this family; working hard most of the day and helping my Mom. I even left school early to help out, much to my Mom's disagreement, but she refuses to admit that it was the best thing I've done. Earning money from the fields is much more valuable than a few extra years of education, but I'd never let any of my sisters do that. As I said, I'm like the father role now.

We all walk to the reaping, hand in hand. It's like a little paper chain of people, linked by the hand. Lissie's in the middle, between me and Mom, then Robyn is on my side and Louisa on Mom's. It's like a little pattern, except I stand out like a sore thumb. A tall one.

Lissie's turned quite again by the time we reach the town centre. Her face has flushed white and her bottom lip is quivering.

"Hey, hey. There's no need to worry, Lissie" I say, bending down to her size. "Remember what I told you?"

She nods and replies quietly. "My name is only in there once and I won't be chosen"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a Princess" She mumbles.

"Exactly, you're my little Princess" I say, picking her up and swinging her around a few times.

Once she's back on her feet, she hugs Mom goodbye, then steps aside as I do the same. Mom whispers in my ear, telling me that everything will be fine and that she's making stew tonight. I tell her that I'm fine and I look forward to the stew. And I do. She only makes it on special occasions, like birthdays etc.

"Ok, look after Lissie until she gets to her group" Mom orders me.

"Of course I will" I promise, then turn to Lissie. "Ready to sign in?"

She nods slowly and I take her hand. I keep hold of her hand as we sign in, giving her courage and making sure she keeps strong. As promised, I walk her down to the front of the crowd, where the twelve year olds stand. At first, she refuses to release her tight grip on my hand, begging me to stay with her.

"It's ok Lissie. I'll won't be that far away from you" I tell her. "We'll only be apart for a short while, ok?"

Lissie sniffs and nods her head. "Ok, Brandon. I'll see you later"

"That's my good girl" I say, giving her a quick hug. "Bye for now"

She watches me as I walk to the back of the crowd, then disappear amongst the other boys. She has found a friend a few minutes later and seems to forget about me, lost in conversation. I smile to myself and stand in line, waiting for the reaping to begin.

It starts about five minutes later. The usual, over dramatic anthem starts playing and our District representative walks on stage, wearing a giant hat bearing the number '500'. I stare at it blankly for a moment, then realise, it's the 500th Hunger Games. The twentieth Quarter Quell. What was the twist this year? I think for a moment... oh yes, it was the fear thing. This year's arena is based around fear. Oh, that's a bad one for the tributes this year. I'm not sure if I'll watch it... although, seeing what the Careers' biggest fears are _will _be interesting.

The time drones on and the speeches are made. The female is chosen and as usual, I feel sympathy for her. Even more this year, seeing that it is a Quell. I notice that I recognise her as she stands on the stage, looking a little tense. She's the girl who's parents and other siblings died, leaving her with a four year old sister to care for. And she's only sixteen.

"Right then, let's get our male tribute!"

I'm not paying much attention, just mainly thinking about what's going to happen to that poor little girl. She's already lost her parents and two siblings; she can't lose her only other remaining family member. Life is unfair.

"And our brave male is...Brandon Thiessen!"

At this moment, I stop thinking about the little girl. Blinking a few times, registering the announcement. _Me?_

"Go on up, Big Bran" Someone whispers from behind me.

Oh right yeah, up to the stage.

Heidi Fitzherbit, District 12 POV

"Dylan! Give me back my shoes, NOW!" I yell furiously out the door.

"You'll have to come get them yourself!" He calls back, placing the shoes on the wall at the bottom of the garden.

"No way! I'll get my feet dirty!" I protest, glancing at my tiny, but spotless feet.

I've always has small feet, like most of the women in my family. It's some sort of genetic thing.

"And wouldn't that be a shame?" Dylan grins at me, walking back towards the house, leaving the shoes on the wall. "Oh, and time is ticking, Heidi. There's only half an hour till the reaping"

As he squeezes past me in the doorway, I give him a sharp nudge with my elbow. He responds with a larger grin and swaggers off to his room.

_Grr, he really knows how to push my buttons..._

Sighing, I realise that I'll have to go and get my shoes. There's not much time left and I still need to do my hair.

Hair or feet? Hair or feet? Hair.

I draw in a deep breath and step out into the garden. My toes are instantly greeted by dry soil and black dust. Even on my tiptoes, my feet still get covered in dust within seconds. I really want to turn back, but I've almost reached the shoes and there's no much point, as my feet can't get any dirtier. I hope.

I reach the wall and grab the shoes, then sprint back into the house. I almost squeal in horror at the sight of my once clean feet. They're coated in black soot and look disgusting!

"I think they look good on you" Dylan emerges into the room, smirking as he looks down at my grey-black feet.

"It's not funny!" I cry out throwing a shoe at him.

It misses by about a mile, hitting the table instead and leaving a slight mark on the damaged wood. My aim is crap, as usual.

"Wow... your aim is so accurate, I'd be petrified if I came across you in the Hunger Games" He says sarcastically, picking up and handing me back my shoe.

I snatch it from him, glaring, before storming out to my room to finish my hair.

I stand in front of the slightly cracked mirror, admiring my appearance. For a poorer girl from the Seam, I've brushed up well. I've always been told I was pretty, and with my dainty features and silky fair hair, I suppose I am.

"Heidi? It's time to leave" Mother calls from outside the house.

"Coming!" I shout back, twirling one last time for the mirror.

The skirt of my dress ripples out and I smile with pleasure. It's such a gorgeous dress; an elegant white dress with a pale pink ribbon around the waist. This is the one day in the whole year that I have an excuse to dress up all pretty in white. Most people in the Seam don't wear a colour so plain and clean, as clothes are guaranteed to get coated in coal dust.

Giving my hair one last brush, I run out the house to join my family.

We walk silently to the main square; mine and Dylan's arms linked, while Mother holds Tilly's hand.

My father died in a mining accident when I was twelve, just weeks before my first ever reaping. I'd been so close to him and losing him when I needed him most knocked all my confidence and positivity. So each year at the reaping, I'm a nervous wreck. Even at sixteen, I haven't gotten past the weeping stage. But what is a girl to do when she has no father to hold her hand and protect her from harsh cruelties in life?

Dylan and I say goodbye to our mother, and I bend down and plant a soft kiss on Tilly's head. She giggles and kisses my cheek in return. A nice, slobbery four year old kiss.

Then, without looking back, I walk over to my allocated area, my hands already trembling with fear and dread. I gulp down some air and try to prepare myself for the worst minutes of the year.

District 12's representative, Lulu Lankill, starts with her annual, boring speech. Honestly, I don't hear a word of it, as all I can hear are the questions echoing inside my head.

_What if I'm chosen? What if no-one volunteers for me? How could we explain to little Tilly that she'll never see her older sister again? Am I going to die? No, I'm too young to die. Too pretty and innocent to die. _

_I don't want to die._

"Heidi Fitzherbit!"

_What?_

Kay Grinestone, District 12 POV

I jog down the road, breathing in the fresh air and allowing it to fill my lungs. I love being outside; just me, the clear air and blue skies. It's all I need in this life. As long as I can see the sky and breathe the air, I'm happy. Not many people think like this; they spend their days anxiously waiting for the reaping, or reeling and grieving afterwards. That's not the way to live, in fear and dread. Why spend your life like that? We only have one life, so I say we should just embrace it and take every day as it comes.

"Kay? Where have been? It's the reaping in ten minutes!" The sound of my mothers voice calls out from the stairs at the front of the house.

"Where'd you think I've been?" I ask, stopping in front of her and stretching my legs.

"Out jogging, as usual" She tuts. "You've been out all morning. I thought you were going to miss the reaping!"

"Sorry, Mom. I just lost track of time... again. But I'm here now, right?" I apologise, moving on to stretch out my arms.

"Without much time to spare" She points out. "Now, get inside and get ready before we're late"

"Sure thing" I wink and head inside.

Once in my room, I pull open a drawer and grab out some brown shorts and a faded blue t-shirt. It only takes me a minute to slip into them and find some shoes. There's not many to choose from, so I go for a pair of worn out sandals. My favourite shoes, other than the pumps I run in of course.

I'm just wiping the little droplets of sweat off my face, when my mother comes in.

"Mickela's here, darling" She tells me, gesturing that it's time to leave.

"Ok, thanks. I'm coming now" I say, putting down the flannel and walking outside.

Mickela stands waiting on the doorstep, twiddling her fingers. She hears me walking down the stairs and turns to face me. Her hand reaches up to my face and she kisses me softly on the lips. My hand rests on her small waist and I pull her in closer. She lets out a small giggle as I draw swirls on her back with my finger.

"You look gorgeous" I whisper in her ear.

And she does. Dressed in a very simple pale pink dress that swishes at her knees. Her hair neatly hangs in golden ringlets, which seems to make her face glow.

"You're not too bad yourself" Mickela says, stroking her fingers down my arm.

"So you're not disappointed that I'm not wearing something more formal?"

"I like you just the way you are" She smiles up at me and leans in for another kiss.

A sharp cough comes from behind us. "Ahem. Enough with the kissing and get your butts down to the square before Peacekeepers come looking for you"

I laugh and release Mickela. "Ok, ok, we're going Mom"

"I'll be up there in a few minutes, so you two go ahead"

I take Mickela's hand and we walk down together. The sun is warm today and her hair sometimes catches the rays, sparkling like a thousand jewels. She is like a thousand jewels to me. In fact, she's worth more than a million jewels.

As we get nearer to the reaping area, her grip on my hand tightens suddenly. I look at her face and see that she's feeling nervous.

"Hey, you alright?" I ask her.

She takes a breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous though"

"There's nothing to worry about. I know you'll be fine, I can feel it in my bones" I assure her.

"But what about you, Kay? What do your bones say about you?"

"They say that as long as I keep smiling, I'll be fine" I squeeze her hand.

"I hope they're right then" She says.

We stop as we reach the signing in desk. She hugs me tightly and I kiss the top of her head. Stroking her hair, I wipe a small tear from her soft face.

"Don't cry, we'll both be fine. I'll see you again soon" I tell her.

She sniffs and nods, then goes over and signs in. I do the same and smile to her reassuringly as we stand in our groups and await the reaping.

Lulu Lankill, our representative from the Capitol, gives her speech and then totters over to the girls' reaping bowl. She plucks out a slip and announces the name. It's not Mickela and I look over to her, mouthing that I was right. She smiles weakly back.

A cry comes from the group of sixteen year old girls. It must be the girl who was chosen, Heidi Fitz-something. Everyone turns to stare at her as she screams, tears pouring from her eyes. She refuses to move from her spot, until some Peacekeepers march her up to the stage.

When she gets to the stage, it takes her some effort to climb the stairs without collapsing. She's having a meltdown, crying hysterically and calling someone's name. Probably a family member or friend, I'd guess. I start to feel sorry for her as she grabs the microphone and begs for volunteers. As usual, the crowds stay quiet and no-one steps up. And she doesn't seem to be taking the news very well, now on her knees in a state of utter despair.

Lulu nevertheless continues and moves on to the boys' bowl. Her hand plunges in the bowl and she pulls out a slip of paper. She moves over to the microphone and opens the slip.

"And our male tribute is... Kay Grinestone!" She announces.

I hear another cry, but this one isn't from Heidi, it's from Mickela. I guess my bones were wrong this time.

* * *

**A/N- Ok, so you've read all the reapings and should have a rough idea of what they're all like. Did any of them stand out to you in any way? Do you have a favourite/s? Let me know, I would love to see who you all like!**

**So, for these tributes... What do you think about Luna leaving behind her little sister, Ivy, will that give her the determination she need? And Brandon, do you think he'll do well in the arena, what with his size and strength, or will his kindness get in the way? Isnt Heidi quite the girly dramaqueen; so do you think she will be able to cope in the arena? Finally, what are your impressions on Kay?**

**Now the reapings are over, I'm going to start on train rides next. There will be six chapters up until the Games, in which 4 tributes' POVs will be in each chapter. Therefore, don't feel as if I've forgotten a tribute, they'll just be in another chapter. I would do everyone's goodbyes and stuff, but I just can't physically fit them all in, sorry. But they will be mentioned! Thanks again to everyone that's submitted tributes, I love them all already! Keep a look out for the next installment, which will be posted up as soon as I can!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	7. Train Rides

**A/N- So the reapings are now over and you probably have some favourites, or some you remember more than others. Now we move on to the next 6 chapters, which are in the Capitol. There will be 4 tributes in each chapter, so here are the first 4 in train rides! Enjoy x**

* * *

Fickle Fletch, District 3 POV

I stand in front of the door, the borderline between two carriages. The window in the door is clear glass, undisturbed and perfect. Peering through the glass, I can see into our main carriage. My District partner, Inva, is sitting in a large chair, watching out the window. I can't see her face, just her long, dark curled hair, tied behind her in a swift ponytail. She seems alright, I guess, but I don't really know much about her.

"Fickle" A whisper sounds in my ear. "Go talk to her, find out about her"

I turn my head to the side, but of course, I can't see anyone.

"Fickle, go talk to her" The voice persists.

That's the thing about imaginary friends; you may not be able to see them, but that doesn't stop them from niggling in your ear. And let me tell you this; they'll nag and nag and nag until you do what they want. There's no stopping them, unless you give in. Which, unfortunately, I do a lot.

"Ok, fine Cheshire. I'll go talk to her" I sigh.

Almost immediately, I feel his presence disappear and I'm left alone, with only a thin door between me and another person. My hand grips the handle and slowly, oh so quietly, I pull it down and gently open the door. Inva doesn't notice, she's too engrossed with the views, so I walk in without acknowledgement.

"Um, hi" I say rather quietly, as I reach the chair beside her.

She refrains from the window and looks at me, seeming a little surprised. What, can't a boy say hi to his District partner?

Frowning, she replies. "Hi..."

I feel a little hurt. I have to deal with strange looks and comments back at home all the time, but I wasn't expecting this now. Aren't we supposed to be civil? I mean, we're probably going to die anyway, so why not at least show some consideration. Nothing about our selves at home matters now, we're equal... I hope.

"What is it? Have I done something?" I ask, concerned.

She shakes her head slowly, hesitating before replying. "No... it's just that, I erm... thought you didn't talk to people"

A small explosion of laughter leaps out from my throat. I'm unprepared for one of my random bursts of giggles, so I try to press my lips together tightly and gulp a few times, doing my best to hold it in. However, the giggles keep jumping up my throat and I find it hard to keep them in. Ripples of laughter pour out my mouth, filling the room with a light atmosphere. I can't stop myself, the laughs keep on rolling out.

Inva starts to stare at me, a confused expression on her face. "Um, Fickle... what are you laughing at?"

I chuckle for a few more moments, until the stage has passed, then swallow and answer. "Nothing, it was nothing"

She looks at me blankly, her eyebrows in a deep frown. I stare back at her, until she quickly turns her head away and starts looking out the window again. Wow, girls have small attention spans.

"So, are you looking forward to seeing the Capitol?" I ask, desperate to pull her back into conversation and make the most of this sociable mood I'm in.

"Well, not really. I'm sure it will be all amazing and stuff, but it'll bring the day of the Games closer" She replies, not moving her gaze from the window.

"I can't wait!" I exclaim. "It will be so exciting and cool and big and-"

The door swings open and someone walks in. Both Inva and I spin round to see who has entered the carriage. It's a tall, thin woman, with high arched eyebrows and thin, worm like lips. Her outfit is less menacing than her face, just a plain blouse and miniskirt. She says nothing as she walks across the room and finds a seat.

"So, Inva and Fickle... congratulations" The woman speaks dryly. Congratulations? Have we won something?

"Um, sorry, but who are you?" I ask, now feeling a little shyer than before.

The woman laughs and Inva shoots me a sharp look. "I'm your mentor, Lydia Temple"

Oh.

Inva pipes in, "She won the Games eight years ago, but you probably won't remember then"

I nod. She's right, I don't remember her. I would have only been four at the time... what was it like to be four?

"Right then, since I'm your mentor, I suppose I'd better give you some advice" Lydia says, drawing me back from my thoughts. "Let's start with Inva. What would you say are your strengths?"

Inva chews her lip for a minute, thinking, then speaks. "Um, I suppose I can run quite fast?"

"That's helpful for escaping the bloodbath; believe me, as soon as that gong sounds, you'll want to get away as fast as possible. The first hour is when the most people die" Lydia says, nodding. "What about any weaknesses?"

Inva doesn't pause as long as before. "I've never handled any weapons before. And I'm not so good with survival skills..."

"Oh don't worry about that, you'll have plenty of time to learn in training" Lydia replies, then turns to me. "What about you Fickle?"

My throat goes dry and starts to close up. A lump is forming, which starts to clog up my windpipe, forcing my breathing to deepen. I can't speak. My previous mood has entirely evaporated and now I'm left with a shell of shyness.

"Fickle?" She repeats, her eyes burning holes in my skull.

I can't take it. The more I stare at her, the more evil she looks. It's like her eyes are emitting deadly lasers and I'm her next target. Her next victim. I'm not even in the arena yet and already I feel as if I'm being hunted. She's deliberately doing this, creating suspense and driving me crazy, until I'm nothing but a nervous wreck. I want to run. I want to escape from this predator, but I'm stuck. I'm stuck in this seat and an invisible force is keeping me down.

Squeezing my eyes shut and grabbing tightly onto my cap, I start to hum.

Harper Sanders, District 6 POV

"That was hilarious when they called your name at the reaping; you went so red" Jacob laughs, reminding me of that awful moment.

"Oh please don't remind me, it was so embarrassing" I say, remembering how everyone laughed at me... their mocks still ring in my ears.

Why did I chose to wear stockings? _Why? _It was plenty hot enough just to wear ankle socks, but no no no, I decided to wear stockings. Ones that were a little large and kept falling halfway down my leg, so I had to constantly pull them up again. And why, of all moments, did I have to bend down as my name was called? I could have at least waited until the girl was chosen before fixing them. It's just so typical as well that I was reaped. Just my luck.

"It was a classic! Everyone's going to remember you as _'the stocking girl' _" Jacob continues, enjoying resurfacing my humiliation.

"The stocking girl?" I repeat, my eyebrows raised.

He shrugs. "Rather that than just _the District Six girl_"

"I suppose..." I sigh. "What about you?"

He winks at me, his face taken up by a huge grin. "I'm a babe magnet, obviously"

I stare at him, blinking a few times.

"What?" He asks.

"A babe magnet?" I say, my voice filled with doubt.

"Uh huh, that's what I am and always have been" He says, slouching even more in his chair.

Wow. This guy seriously needs a reality check. I'm surprised he can even stand up with an ego that big. He must have a strong neck to keep that it up. Although, I can see why he's so vain; he is good looking and can probably charm anything in a skirt. I'm sure plenty of girls watching this year's Games will be drooling over him. Me? No. He's not my type. Too cocky and full of himself. I prefer sweeter, more caring guys, who wouldn't spend an hour in the bathroom doing their hair or whatever.

I say no more and walk over to the refreshments table. It's filled with plates of all sizes that display all kinds of strange foods. I've never seen anything like it; there's enough food to feed an army! Not to mention, everything looks to perfect and dainty, more like ornaments than food. I let my fingers hover over the dishes, unable to decide which one to try first. In the end I go for something that looks like a parcel, but is no bigger than the centre of my palm and weighs merely more than a sock. I pop it straight into my mouth and bite into it's firm outside layer. Once broken, a sweet liquid is released and my taste buds are literally going wild. It's like nothing I've ever tasted before. It's gorgeous. No, it's bliss.

I waste no time in making my way across the table, taking a sample of each miniature dish. Every bite tastes better than the one before and I'm introduced to all sorts of flavours that make my mouth water for more. Just as I'm reaching out to dip my fingertips in a sauce, the door slides open and a man walks in.

I draw back my hand and stare at the man. It doesn't take me long to recognise his face. It's Damien Thicket, the most recent Victor from District Six. He won the Games about twenty years ago... ok, maybe not so recent. But what can I say? It's rare that anyone from Six wins the Hunger Games. Very rare. And he's our shining example.

Damien takes a seat across from Jacob, who instantly sits upright. "Welcome to your last two weeks on this earth"

"Wow... that's a little blunt" Jacob says.

"Blunt, but true" Damien states, nodding. "You'll be lucky to survive the first few days... if you even escape the bloodbath, that is"

Jacob seems a little offended by his last comment and speaks up. "Hey, you don't know what we're capable of. I could easily get down to the final eight"

"That's what most lads say, Jack, but they never stand a chance against the Careers" Damien says, shaking his head.

"It's Jacob, not Jack" Jacob corrects. "And I won't need to worry about Careers"

"And why is that?" Damien ventures.

"Cuz I'm gonna join them, be in their pack" Jacob announces confidently.

My eyes dart across to Jacob, my face full with shock.

"You're joining the _Careers?_" I question with surprise.

He nods proudly. "Yup, that's the plan"

Whilst I stand for a moment, stunned, Damien erupts into laughter, clapping his hands together a little too loudly.

"You're hilarious, Jamie, just hilarious! You had me going for a second then, I thought you were actually serious"

Jacob looks at him, his face deadly serious, no sign of a joke. "I am serious. I'm joining the Careers. Oh, and my name is _Jacob_"

"Oh right, whatever, Jake. Just go live in your dream world, while the rest of us sit in reality: You. Will. Never. Be. A. Career."

Jacob ignores this comment and walks over to the window, muttering under his breath. "_It's Jacob_"

I wait, expecting Damien to crush my dreams as well, but he doesn't acknowledge me. He simply strides straight past me, heading for the refreshments. Not that I blame him really, they are heavenly... No, wait a minute Harper. This is your mentor, he's supposed to give you advice! Not blank you completely. Pfft, I'm not going to be treated like a nothing.

"Hey, Damien" I call. "What about me?"

He turns around, wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hairy hand. "What about you?"

Disgusted with his attitude, I place my hands on my hip and glare at him. "You've forgotten about me. I want some advice on how to survive in the Hunger Games"

Damien shoves another canapé into his mouth and says through mid-chew, "I don't have any advice to give"

"There must be _something_. Shelter, food, weather, _anything_?" I insist.

He shakes his head, swallowing. "Why bother? It's not like you have any chance of winning... or even getting to the final eight"

I hesitate, thinking what to say back. Wondering, is he right? Do I have no chance at all? Maybe he is right. I'm just me, Harper. The girl from District Six. The stocking girl. A no-one. And no-ones don't win the Hunger Games.

Elodie Torelli, District 9 POV

This is by far the best window I've ever looked out of. Firstly, it's huge and open, almost feeling as if I'm out there too, flying past the evergreen forest. I can imagine it now; soaring freely in that cool air, with the soft breeze rushing though my hair and letting the wind take me higher and higher. Way up into the sky, past the clouds and ascending on a never-ending journey. What I would do for a pair of wings... just for one day, even one minute. Just to be out there in the open.

My forehead suddenly clashes into the glass. I'm dazed for a moment, like I'm waking from a dream. My fingers reach up to gently rub where I hit and they massage into my skin. It relieves some of the pain, however, the throbbing continues nonetheless.

Ignoring the soreness in my forehead, I begin to stare out the window again. I'm straining my eyes, my mind, my focus; trying so hard to fall back into my daydream. Watching the green of the trees blending together, forming like an ocean of leaves, inviting me in, but not quite getting there. I can see the glass before me, it's no longer an invisible shield. I know of it's presence, so I know my reality. I'm on a train to the Capitol, to train before entering the 500th Hunger Games. I am not flying in the vast outside atmosphere. I'm stuck and there's no going back.

Zephyr walks into the carriage.

His hair looks ruffled, unbrushed and his overgrown fringe still flops over his eyes. He looks a little weary; he must have just woken up from a nap. He stifles a tired yawn and collapses on a chair, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

"Had a nice nap?" I ask, a little more bitter than I'd meant to.

Zephyr takes notice and sighs. "Well I had to think alone for a while; I hadn't been planning to volunteer for the Hunger Games"

My eyes drop to the floor. "You shouldn't have"

He nods. "But I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life... well, what's left of it" I reply harshly.

"No, I won't" Zephyr says, rising from his seat. "I won't regret it because I did the right thing. It might not have been the easiest thing to do, but it was the right thing"

I stand up too, a few metres from him. "How was it the right thing?"

"Because I did it for _you_, Elodie" He says.

"And you think I'd want that? You think I'd want my only brother to come into the Games with me, when at least one of us would have to die? You think that's what I _want_?" I question him angrily.

"It's not about what you want, it's about me protecting you. On your own, you couldn't survive a few days, but if you had me, then I'd be able to help you and make sure you'd come out alive"

This stuns me. This is ridiculous, even coming from Zephyr.

"You did this so you could _protect me_?" I ask.

He tilts his head to the ceiling. "Yes. I knew you couldn't survive, so I volunteered to help you"

This is beyond a joke. It's a real life nightmare.

"How would dying so I could win help me? Do you think so little of your life that you'd just throw it away on such a small chance?" I query him deeply.

"If the chance could possibly save your life, then yes. I would sacrifice myself" He replies, looking me directly in the eyes.

No. I can't be hearing this. No way. Zephyr, who had pretty much a perfect life, would give it all up to save me, who's life is nothing more than watching clouds pass by?

"What if I don't want that?" I ask, stepping towards him. "What would you do then?"

"I would still fight to save you; you're my sister and I'd do anything to protect you" He replies simply.

"What if I wanted to die?" I ask, quieter.

"You wouldn't" He answers.

"What if I wanted to die?" I repeat.

He doesn't answer, instead looking deeply into my matching light brown eyes.

_"What if I want to die?"_ I scream, pounding my fists on his firm chest. _"What if I want to die?"_

I'm not sure if I'm hurting him or not, but Zephyr takes my wrists and holds them firmly, stopping me from breaking his ribs. His grip is too solid, so I find myself stuck and unable to move. I try hard to break from his grasp, but I'm much weaker than him and my arms start to ache from the strain.

"Calm, Elodie, calm" Zephyr speaks to me gently. "Just breathe slowly"

Shakily, I draw a breath and release it. Slowing down my heart rate, I'm able to think straight. What got into me? I never flip out like that, especially towards Zephyr. So why did I do it now? I guess it was the shock that shook my mind; the fact that my brother would willingly give his life...for me. And that thought that angered me before now sparks a sadness to my heart.

I begin to cry, the teardrops rushing down my face like a stream, running over my smooth cheeks and dripping off the end of my chin. Zephyr releases my wrists and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him. I weep into his shoulder, dampening his t-shirt and muttering to him.

"I don't want to die" I sob. "I don't want to die"

Zephyr's finger stroke down my hair as he replies softly. "I know, I know"

Brandon Thiessen, District 11 POV

The train is a lot fancier than I had expected a train to be. It's more like a luxury suite than a mode of transport! Everything is so refined and I'm in awe at the amounts of tiny little detail, from the small flecks of gold in the walls to the delicate frosting on the refreshments. It's like nothing I've ever seen before, yet I wish I'd never seen it. That way I'd be home, giving plane rides to my little sisters and laughing at their high pitched squeals of excitement.

I walk into the lounge of the train, furnished with several large chairs and extensive tables, the back ones laid with food and drink. There's even a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, which slightly vibrates from the movement of the train. All this luxury, all this fancy stuff, it's like the Capitol are rewarding us before sending us to our deaths. Giving us everything before dumping us with nothing but the hunger to survive.

Luna, my District partner, is standing in front of the window, looking out into the unfamiliar surroundings. She's standing still, her hands clutching on something tightly, so tightly that her knuckles are going white.

"Hey" I say, stopping beside her. "You ok?"

She replies without looking at me. "Alright, I guess. I just can't get to grips with it all; I keep thinking that I'll suddenly wake up and I'll be back at home, safe. I can't stop wondering; why me?"

I find myself nodding. "Yeah, same here. I mean, I always knew that I could be reaped, but I ever actually thought I would. You just keep thinking to yourself that it will be someone else, but in reality, you're everyone else's someone else. Know what I mean?"

"Yes, exactly what you mean. You see twenty four people going through this every year, thinking how awful it might be, but never really knowing what it's like until it's you. But even then, you can't believe that this is your reality now. Not just someone on TV. You"

Her words are so real, so true that I can't find any words to reply. So we just stand there for a minute, watching the rest of the world slip past and getting further and further away from what we know. What we want.

My eyes drop from the window and catch her hands, still clutching onto something. I can't quite see what it is, so I ask her.

"Hey, what's that in your hand?"

Luna glances down at her hands. "Oh, it's from my sister, Ivy. She gave me it at the goodbyes"

"What is it?" I ask.

She opens up her fingers and lifts her hands towards me. Hanging from her palms is a small wreath, made from twisting ivy. "It's an ivy wreath. She made it for me"

"It's beautiful" I say, admiring the wreath. It's crafted so delicately that only a young child could get it perfect.

Luna looks up to me. "Do you have anything from home?"

"Yes" I reply, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. "It's a note from my sisters, wishing me good luck"

I open it up and reveal the hand written message. The writing is quite scrawled, but the essence of my sisters pour from the dry ink. The little extra note, written in smaller letters, makes me smile. It's from Louisa: _Don't forget you owe me a plane ride x. _But somehow, I don't think I'll be able to pay my debts. But I'll try.

"What are they like, your sisters?" Luna asks me.

I smile, picturing their happy, smiling faces. "Bubbly, giggly, girly; all the things you'd imagine little princesses to be. Lissie, the eldest, tends to be the more grown up of the others and can often get a little bossy. Then there's Robyn, the quieter one of the girls, but certainly the most creative. And finally, little Louisa, the cheeky one who never gets tired of being swung around and played with"

"They sound wonderful" Luna smiles.

"They are" I say, then add. "What about Ivy?"

"Quite a handful sometimes, I guess. But I'd put that down to having no parents" She says. "She's perfect though and I love her more than anything in the world"

"You have no parents?" I query.

She nods. "Yeah, my father was killed by Peacekeepers just before Ivy was born. I had other siblings too, Rose and Plum, who died from that deathly illness about three years ago. If that wasn't bad enough, my brother rebelled and was taken by Peacekeepers too. By then, my mother was a mess and two years ago, she killed herself"

Her story tugs at my heart strings, almost bringing a tear to my eye.

"I'm so sorry" I say softly.

"It's ok, I'm used to it now" She shrugs, closing her fingers back around the wreath. "I just worry about Ivy and what will happen if-"

The door opens and a man walks in. Our mentor.

He looks at Luna, then his eyes flicker over to me.

"Goodness me, you're tall, Brandon"

* * *

**A/N- Ok, so the train rides are done. What do you think about these characters now? Have you changed your mind about them after reading this? Now you've had 2 POVs for these tributes, do you think they have much of a chance in the arena?**

**Let me know all your thoughts about any of the characters, I would love to know what you think about them now! Thanks again to all who submitted. Keep reading and reviewing! Next chapter up is the Chariot Rides... who's POVs will be in that chapter? Read to find out!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	8. Tribute Parade

**A/N- Right, I'm moving house this weekend, so I've been doing looaads of packing. But, we ran out of tape yesterday, so I took advantage and got these finished :D Enjoy x**

* * *

Ren Elmwood, District 1 POV

My shoulder ache, my arms are worn out and my body feels like it weighs a ton. No, more. I never thought a costume be so heavy, it's unreal. Lets just say that two thousand tiny jewels weigh quite a bit...

"Stand up straight!" A sharp, commanding voice snaps at me, prodding my shoulder.

I practically leap out of my skin. I must have been thinking to hard about the weight of my costume that I didn't realise my stylist staring at me. Quickly, I straighten my spine and attempt to look majestic. I look at her for an approval, but all I receive in return is a stone cold glare. Hmm, she's not the nicest of stylists, I've got to say. But I suppose it's very stressful, designing all of these costumes etc. Not like they're pretty much the same every year or anything...

"Ren, will you quit the daydreaming. We've got a show to put on" She says harshly. "Come on now, move it"

She ushers me out of the dressing room hurriedly, her long nails digging into the flesh on my back. We're walking down so fast, we might as well be running. Everything she does is so rushed and has to fit exactly in her schedule. No wonder she's stressed.

I'm pushed along another corridor, before stopping in front of a large door. My stylist types a long, complicated code into the panel and the door slides open. I'm then hurried into a large room, an extremely long one too. The air is buzzing with excitement and anxiety, well, if you can tell over the amount of talking. It seems like every single person in the room is blabbering at fifty miles an hour into microphones. I can't hear myself think!

"Ren, Ren! This way!" I'm called again.

I quickly walk over to my stylist, who's giving me the evils again. She really doesn't like me, does she? I don't see why though; just because I don't revolve my life around a timetable and like to look at things I've never seen before.

I'm told to stand at the front of the line of chariots. I make my way there quickly, keen to avoid any more looks of death. If looks could kill...

When I arrive, I see that my District partner seems to be having the same problem as me. She's leaning against the wall, her arms slumped by her side. I walk over to her.

"Hey, Brooklyn" I say. "The costumes are a little heavy, don't you agree?"

She makes a brief groan. "They're ridiculous! Is it really necessary to have two bloody thousand jewels on one dress?"

No, it's not. I look at her dress; it's the same design as my shirt and trousers, only shorter and, well, a dress. The multicoloured gems glitter as they catch the light, scattering beams of brightly coloured lights across the room. It's quite pretty to look at, but honestly must be quite annoying to be with. Just like her, I suppose.

I haven't really socialised much with Brooklyn; we haven't had the time. Then again, we've only been at the Capitol for one night. We did speak briefly on the train journey, but I didn't really take on to her. She seems a little arrogant, too confident, and doesn't seem to care about anything other than winning the Games. Shame she's pretty though, otherwise I could totally despise her easily.

"Hey, try having trousers as well; walking is difficult with all these jewels weighing you down. At least you're legs aren't covered" I say, gesturing to my trousers, but unable to stop myself from taking a quick glance at her toned, tanned legs.

"I suppose" She shrugs. "Oh, I think we're ready to board the chariot"

I look over and see my stylist waving us over, frantically. Seriously, this woman needs to calm down a little. I'm sure the chariot isn't going to leave without us.

Brooklyn and I head over to the chariot. I'm ushered round to the right side, while Brooklyn stays on the left. A step has been pushed against the side and I use it to climb on the wooden vehicle. It doesn't seem that big until you're standing on it. Once I'm up, I feel the size of a giant, looking down on everyone. It's quite an odd feeling, being up this high.

I turn my head to look at Brooklyn. Her face is set in a still stare, facing forwards. She's barely even blinking, she's so focused. I feel a little stupid, with my eyes wandering about, so I try to act as confident as she looks. I straighten my back again and hold my shoulders down. My head is lifted high, with my chin pointing slightly upwards. And just for an extra boost, I stick my chest out. Now I look the part.

"And... District One, go!" I hear someone announcing into a megaphone.

And with that, the chariot begins to crawl forwards. Slightly uneasy, I flicker my eyes over to Brooklyn. She's still staring out, her eyes fierce and beautiful. She knows what she's doing... Wait, so should I. I'm a Career, acting tough and confident should run in my blood. I'm not going to let any stray thoughts ruin this parade. You only get to do this once, so I'd better do it well. Besides, I need to look strong if I'm going to keep up the big act for my father. I've got to fool him and the rest of Panem that I'm a true Career.

And it's not so hard, actually. All I do is keep my posture and wave to the crowds, not too friendly, but enough to show that I'm enjoying the attention. And actually, I think I am enjoying this. Maybe it's not to hard to be a Career after all.

Layla Roberts, District 4 POV

"I am _not_ wearing _that_" I state, staring at the hideous costume.

"Yes you are, Layla. It is compulsory that you represent District Four well" My stylist, Bellencia, says.

"Since when does District Four have _mermaids?_" I ask her.

She sighs. "It doesn't literally have mermaids, but that's the whole concept. We're going for a more fantasy interpretation; people will definitely notice you"

I snort. "Yeah, because I'll look stupid"

"No you won't, you'll look fabulous. Now, are you going to put it on or do I have to force you in it myself?" She asks impatiently.

Knowing I have no choice in the matter, having argued for some time and not getting anywhere, I groan and snatch up the costume, dragging it behind a curtain with me in a huff.

Five minutes later, I'm wearing a glittery coral bra and a sparkling fake tail. Yeah, so fabulous... not. I nearly shriek in horror as I see myself in the mirror for the first time.

"Agh! I look revolting!" I exclaim, almost quaking with disgust at my appearance.

Normally, I'm not too bothered about what I look like, but this is just horrific. I can't be seen in this; I wouldn't even wear it if I was dead! I think I'd rather dress up as a fishing rod, or in a dress made of seaweed. Anything, but a mermaid costume. I've seen some bad outfits in past Games, but none as awful and gross as this. Not to mention, it's turquoise and pink. _Pink!_

"Wow, don't you look amazing!" Bellencia gasps, admiring her work. "The colours suit you perfectly!"

"No they don't" I snarl. "I hate pink and I hate this costume. It's babyish"

As I storm over and plonk myself down on a sofa in a rage, Bellencia gives a little chuckle.

"Oh, Layla. It's not babyish at all! It's much more refined than a short dress with huge heels"

I think I'd prefer that option.

"But it's gross" I complain. "It makes me look about seven"

"Hold on a minute" Bellencia snatches up a hair grip, topped with a huge turquoise flower. She twists my short wavy hair up and slides in the grip. "Tadaa! Now you look much older than you really are"

I stare at my hair. I suppose she's right, it _does _make me look a year or two older. But then I look at the rest of my reflection and pull a face.

"The outfit is still horrible" I insist.

Ballencia doesn't protest anymore, she just rolls her eyes and escorts me out the room and down some corridors. We're going at snails' pace, because it's kinda hard to walk when your legs are pulled together by a fake tail. I'm, like, waddling down the corridors, feeling so awkward and embarrassed with my appearance. I just hope that Tal looks as ridiculous as I do, then it won't be as bad if there are two of us. It will still be awful, but not diabolically awful.

After what seems like forever, we finally make it to the chariot room. Twelve perfectly decorated chariots wait patiently behind each other, each one specially designed to represent the Districts. I spot my chariot instantly. It's painted an ocean blue colour, with hints of turquoise and marine. The more I stare into the paintwork, the more it looks like the real ocean; flowing and calm. Peaceful.

Ballencia walks me down the side of the room, passing some of the other chariots. As of my slow pace, I have the time to check out the other Districts and see whether anyone else looks as stupid as I do. No-one does, unfortunately. Ok, District Ten are dressed as cows, so typical and overdone, and they look quite funny too. But not quite as bad as I do, in my opinion.

Plenty of the other tributes gawp at me as I waddle past, some smirking, but the majority of them look gob smacked. In a good way. I think. I hope.

After my walk of shame, we finally reach the District Four chariot. Ballencia whispers something in my ear about needing to speak with someone and disappears off, leaving me standing alone. I'm not really sure what to do now, so I just sit on the step next to the chariot and anxiously chew the end of my nails. I don't get far, as I hear someone else approaching the chariot. Struggling a little, I get to my feet and peer around the side. It's Tal.

My first reaction is wow. Wow, wow, wow. Unlike me, he's not dressed like a mermaid, or merman in his case, he's wearing something a lot better. I'm not sure how I would describe it, but it's like a sort of shimmering net draped across his body. Quite a lot of his skin is exposed, including his slender, toned stomach. His skin is even slightly glimmering in the light. And in his hand he yields a golden trident. He looks gorgeous.

I'm speechless. I can't stop staring at him, like he's some sort of God or something. He is a God. I watch in awe as he fingers the trident, acting as if it's just a normal everyday object. It probably is to him. The way he's holding it seems effortless. I stand, unable to prize my eyes off him. Then, he spots me and walks over.

"Wow, Layla, you look great" He says, looking at my costume.

I find myself blushing. "Oh, erm... I'm a mermaid"

"I can see that" He laughs, pointing at my tail.

Crap. Why did I say that?

"You look...um, great too" I say, trying to recover.

Tal runs his hands through his ruffled copper hair. "Really? I'm wasn't too sure on the net thing, it kinda shows off more of my body than it covers. You think it's not too much?"

"Oh no, it's really good. You have a fantastic body and I think you should show it off. It's definitely not too much" I race through my words without even thinking.

He looks at me, seeming surprised. "You think I have a good body?"

Crap, again.

"Oh, erm...I suppose? Well, you seem toned and in good shape; girls love that" I reply, starting yet again to ramble with my nervousness. "But I'm not saying that I fancy you or anything, cuz I don't. I don't mean that you're not attractive, I'm just saying that... erm"

If he wasn't staring at me as if I'm a lunatic, then now would be the perfect time for a face-palm.

"Right..." Tal says slowly.

I could die right at this minute. Now, before we're even in the arena. The ground could just open and swallow me whole. In fact, I wish it would. I have just made myself look like a right idiot...and in front of Tal. Tal, who is so gorgeous right now that my cheeks are literally burning like they've been set on fire...

"Ok then, District Four, get ready!" Someone announces and all of a sudden, we're pushed up onto the chariot.

Oh my gosh, this is it. This is it. The Tribute Parade; the time we showcase ourselves to Panem. And I'm standing in a mermaid costume, with my cheeks looking like two cherry tomatoes. Perfect.

Phosphorus Vox, District 7 POV

I have never seen so much green in my life, and I don't mean plants. Every shade of green imaginable is draped across sofas, tables, mannequins, everywhere. How much green fabric does it take to create one, maybe two, costumes? Unless we're wearing a fifty foot long cloak...

"So, um, what exactly am I wearing?" I ask, peering around the room.

My stylist seems to be half buried amongst some lime coloured material when she muffles a reply.

"I'm sure I put it over here..."

I stand, twiddling my thumbs as she continues to root around for my costume. I thought stylists were supposed to be neat and organised? Well, clearly not Felicity.

"I know I had it somewhere..." Another mumble comes from beneath the sea of green.

I glance my eyes around the room, scanning it for anything that looks like a costume. My eyes drift past endless boxes, stuffed with ribbons and feathers, until I spot something hanging in a long bag.

"Hey, is that it?" I ask, pointing over to the hanging bag.

Felicity's head pops up immediately and looks over to where I'm pointing.

"Yes! That's it! She cries, stumbling to her feet and clumsily sprinting to the bag. "I knew it was _somewhere_"

I watch as she unzips the bag, feeling eager to see my costume. I wonder what it will be like; District Seven specialises in lumber. I'm praying that it won't be another tree costume. Please not a tree... Anything but a tree...

Felicity pulls the costume from the bag in a flourish and holds it out for my approval. Fortunately, it's not a tree, but I'm not really sure _what_ it is. It's like a cross between an elf and Peter Pan...

"Um, don't mean to sound rude, but what is it exactly?" I ask, staring blankly at the costume.

"It's a woodcutter!" Felicity announces, smiling from ear to ear.

"A woodcutter?" I repeat unsurely. "I thought it looked a bit...elfish"

Felicity laughs. "It does look elfish, but that's the point. I thought, because you and Arya are both quite small, that an elfish look would be adorable!"

"Adorable?" I say, uneasy.

"Don't worry, you'll have a golden axe so you'll still be a woodcutter" She grins, handing me the outfit. "Now, get this on"

Obediently, I take the costume, walk into a curtained cubicle and slip into it. When I say it, I mean the tight green leggings and matching dress. Ok, it's not quite a dress, it's more of a long top with a buckled belt and a ragged hem. I'm a little unsure about it, but I slip into the boots and stick the feathered cap on my head. As I emerge from the cubicle, Felicity's mouth forms a 'o'.

"Oh my gosh, Phosphorus!" She exclaims. "You look incredibly cute!"

I'm not sure how to react; am I supposed to be happy? Do I want the whole of Panem to think I'm cute and want to pinch my cheeks? Do I want to look small and innocent?

Standing at the mirror, staring at my reflection, I realise Felicity's a genius. This perfect. Not just the costume, but the whole little, cute boy idea is exactly what I need. That will be my act, all through the training I'll pretend to be weak, so no-one pays any attention to me. If I can keep that up then I'm bound to be forgotten by the Careers and I'll stay alive longer. Then, if I get far, I can unleash my skills and perhaps, even win. And actually, I think I can pull this off. I do look ridiculously cute.

"Do you like it, then?" Felicity interrupts my plan making.

I nod eagerly. "It's perfect"

"Ooh, good!" She says, walking over to me and placing her hands on my small shoulders. "Lets go then, my little elf"

I'm taken out of the dressing room and into a large room. It must be like backstage, as all the chariots are lined up and people are rushing around with clipboards. Most of the other tributes are already here, talking amongst themselves and looking around at other Districts. I too, look around, getting an idea of what everyone is feeling. Quite a few of them look really nervous, especially the girl from Nine. Her face is completely white and I can see her body rigid with fear. Her partner, who has to be related to her, is trying to coax her out of her state. Good luck to him, she looks pretty petrified to me.

Felicity and I reach District Seven's chariot. It nicely matches my outfit, all green and natural, with two large fake trees either side which curve together to form a sort of arch. Quite elfish.

"Ok, Phosphorus, I'm going to fetch your axe. You just stay here and chat to Arya or something" Felicity tells me.

I nod and watch her disappear into the clusters of other stylists. Spotting Arya, I walk over to her. She seems to be looking ahead to the Districts in front of us, her eyes wide with curiosity and wonder.

"Hi" I say tapping her shoulder.

She turns to me, her ponytail swishing around with her. "Oh, hey"

"Nice costume" I say, gesturing to her almost identical costume. It's pretty much exactly the same, except her top is more of a dress than a long top.

"It's alright, I guess. We could have been trees" She shrugs, then clutches my forearm. "Have you seen all the Careers? They're_ amazing_!"

I raise onto my toes, peering ahead to the Careers' chariots. I see what Arya means, they are amazing. District One instantly catches my eyes, with their outfits sparkling so much that small beams of light are reflected around the room. They look fantastic and their faces seem to glow almost as much as their outfits. But, boy they must be heavy. I'm glad I'm not wearing all those gems...

District Two look great as well, but my eyes are then drawn to the two from Four. I have to blink a few times to check I'm seeing this right. Alas, I am. The girl is wearing a coral bra and a tail. She's a _mermaid_. Wow. I've never seen _that _done before.

"Is she a mermaid?" I ask Arya.

She nods her head. "Doesn't it look so realistic?"

"Uh huh, I suppose it does" I reply.

"Phosphorus! Arya!" The sound of Felicity's high pitched squeal grabs our attention.

She runs over to us, carrying to gold painted axes. They're thrust into our hands; luckily, they're lightweight, or I think I would have toppled over. Now we look like woodcutters... Ok, elf woodcutters.

"No time to dawdle, on you go" Felicity says, pushing us towards the chariot. "Quickly, District One is about to leave!"

Arya and I clamber up the steps, onto the chariot. I feel a whoosh of anxiety as I stand up straight, trying to get my balance. I'm not sure if I'm ready for this. What if I mess up? My whole plan could be ruined before it even begins. Can I pull off the cute look?

I turn to Arya for support, but she's too busy staring in awe at everything. I notice then that the huge double doors have been opened and the first Districts are entering the spotlight. The crowds look like a giant blur of colour from back here, but I can definitely tell that there's a lot of them there. Waiting for us to come out. Cheering our names. Ready to make judgements.

Will they like me? Will they think I look cute? I just hope so, this is my only sensible plan to survive longer in the arena. Without this, I'm a goner. One hundred percent.

Kay Grinestone, District Twelve POV

"Ok, you can open your eyes...now" My stylist tells me.

My eyelids lift and I'm able to see again. And what I see shocks me.

My whole body is painted a thick, dark black.

"What the...why am I painted black?" I say, frowning.

"It's not paint, it's _body dye_" Caius corrects. "And you're dyed black because you're representing coal mines"

"Yeah, but how does my skin being black help?" I ask, rubbing my arm to see if the 'dye' comes off. It doesn't. Of course.

"You're meant to be a piece of _coal_" Caius replies, saying it as if I'm dumb. Well how was I supposed to know that? I look nothing like a stupid piece of coal.

"Oh... right, a piece of coal... I see it now" I pretend to realise the 'obvious'.

Caius smiles weakly. "Good. Now, let me get your cape"

_Cape? _Since when do pieces of coal wear _capes? _

Well, it seems that in Caius' world they do. Bright, flowing red ones too. I stay still as the cape is hooked onto the back of my jacket. Yeah, I am wearing clothes as well... oh, that would be awkward if I wasn't... They're black too, so you can't really tell the clothes from my skin. Everything is so black, which is why the cape seems to stand out so much. It kinda looks out of place, with the lashings of gold blended in with the crimson. Honestly, I don't really see the point of the cape. I would look better just all black, but I'm not a stylist, so my opinions are invalid. And what the stylist says, goes.

Once my face is given a quick touch-up, I'm ushered out. I'm shown down some dark corridors and taken through some large doors and finally, into a huge room. It's filled with all the chariots, including a large percentage of the tributes, all dressed in extravagant outfits. I can see two cows from District Ten, scarecrows from Eleven and erm, I don't know what Eight are...And finally, I see my matching black silhouette.

As I approach her, I can hear her complaining to one of the prep girls. Complaining about being painted black, I'm presuming.

"I can't believe you painted my face as well! How do you know I'm not allergic? I mean, I could wake tomorrow with a swollen face!" She rants, her long fingers pointing to her black face.

"I'm sure you're not allergic, Heidi" The girl is trying to calm her. "Look, I'm sorry but I have to dash"

Without letting Heidi say anything else, she scurries off, her face looking relieved as she escapes. I feel for her, I really do. I know what it's like to be on the tail end of a teenage girl's rant. It's terrifying.

"Whoa, Heidi, people can hear you a mile away" I say.

She gives me a sharp glare. "Well, she needed to be told. How am I expected to do well in training if I have a potentially swollen face?"

"Hmm, yes, that would be awful" I say, then pause, peering at her face closely. "Actually, I hate to say this, but I think your face is looking a little...puffy"

Her eyes widen with fear. "Oh my god. No. That stupid stylist; I told her I might be allergic! But no no no, she didn't listen and just slapped it all on. I have very sensitive skin, you see, so I _thought _I might have a reaction from the paint. And guess who was right, eh? GUESS?"

My face creases up with laughter. Seriously, this girl is sooo gullible. "Oh Heidi, Heidi"

"What?" She looks at me blankly.

"Your face is fine, I was just joking" I tell her.

"Oh" She says quietly, her eyes falling to the floor.

"You're so girly" I remark.

She snorts. "Well of course, I _am _a girl. What do you expect me to be?"

"I mean, like, all fussy and squealy" I reply.

She gives an annoyed gasp. "I am not _that _fussy. And I certainly do not _squeal_"

I hesitate for a moment, then suddenly point to under the chariot.

"Oh my god, I think I just saw a rat"

Heidi gives a small shriek and leaps onto a box, peering down at the floor.

"Where? Oh my gosh, it didn't touch me, did it?" She panics, frantically searching the floor.

I sigh heavily. "Heidi, there is no rat. Again, I just made it up to prove my point"

"Why would you do that? That's mean, I hate rats..." She sniffs, stepping down from the box cautiously.

I roll my eyes. She glares at me.

"District Twelve, are you ready?" A voice booms from a megaphone. "Leaving in one minute"

Oh, right. We hurry to opposite sides of the chariot, me on the right and Heidi on the left. There's a step set up beside it, so it gives me a boost onto the chariot. The actual place we stand is really quite high up. I feel like I've grown by a few feet and everyone else has shrunk. It's quite a strange feeling.

"District Twelve, thirty seconds"

Thirty seconds... thirty seconds. That's all until I'm thrust into the spotlight. Cameras will be everywhere, thousands of people standing there, millions watching elsewhere. Watching me. Me, Kay Grinestone. I feel my palms going sweaty.

"Twenty seconds"

My stomach is flipping like a pancake, tossing around wildly, juggling all my insides. I can feel the blood pumping, feel it pulsating in my temples. Even my heart beat can be heard over the cheers from ahead. I don't usually get nervous. It's not an emotion I'm familiar with. Normally, I just get on with things, take them as they come and not worry about them. Just go with the flow, that's what I do. But how can I flow now, when pretty much everyone in Panem is going to watch me? See me. Notice me.

"Ten seconds"

I turn to Heidi. She's looking more nervous than I feel. I can see her eyes flickering as she tries to keep looking forward. Her hands are shaking.

"Hey, you ok?" I whisper to her.

She shakes her head. "No, not really. I'm kinda scared"

"You, really? I thought you'd love the girly attention"

"Shut up. You're not helping"

"Sorry"

"I said, shut up"

The megaphone comes again. Louder.

"Three, two, one"

The chariot jolts and we both stumble. Luckily, we get our balance in time and the chariot plods on. I try to concentrate on breathing properly as we edge to the open doors. Ensure that I don't choke myself before I even get in the arena. And we move closer. Closer. Closer. The chariot pulls through the doors.

I close my eyes.

When I open them again, I'm standing in the middle of a large path. Crowds and crowds of brightly dressed people surround the edges, cheering out of control. The people before must have been good.

It's only when I see everyone turn to look at us that I remember the cape. I turn my head and see a trail of fire behind me. Ok, it's not fire, not even fake fire. But the flowing red material is flapping wildly, rippling like a real fire. The gold flecks look like little flames, leaping up from the rest. Fire is strong, fierce, ferocious. That gives me the confidence boost I need.

I feel my arm lifting and before I can realise what I'm doing, I'm waving to the people. And they're waving back. Calling my name. Screaming my name.

"How are you doing that?" Heidi whispers in my ear.

"I dunno, just smile and wave. Smile and wave"

* * *

**A/N- Ok, so this part of the Capitol is done. 4 more chapters before they get into the arena! *gasp***

**So, what do you think of these characters now? Have any views changed on them? **

**What do you think about Ren now, do you think he'll be able to be the Career he's expected to be or is the tribute parade nothing in comparison to the real thing? Do you think Layla is still as grumpy as before, or do you think she's different deep down and what about her thing for Tal? Phosphorus, do you think he'll be able to pull of the weak look until he gets in the arena, if he does, then what is he really capable of? And then Kay, how easily can he 'flow' through the arena and how far could he really get?**

**Let me know your answers to the above questions, and more! Thanks to all who submitted and Training will be up soon!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	9. Training

**A/N- Manyyy apologies for the late update! As you may know, I moved house last weekend, so I haven't had much time to write. But, finally, I sat all last night and finished the training for all of you out there! I hope you like it xxx**

* * *

Rhea Blakemore, District 10 POV

I look around the room. Weapons hanging from racks. Targets standing stationary. Obstacles dotted here and there. The first day of training.

To begin with, I'm pretty much wandering around aimlessly, not knowing where to start. There are just too many stations to choose from, either focusing on combat or survival. Both of which are majorly important. But how do I train successfully, to the best of my ability, without revealing much to the other tributes?

I glance over to the main combat station. Most of the Careers are there, pretty much all of them, plus a few more hopefuls. It's quite terrifying to watch their weapons slice through the air, before plunging into targets at a perfect bull's-eye. I find myself in a sort of trance, in awe, as one of the Careers throws three knives at once... and hits every target bang on the spot. She looks pleased with herself, as she goes over and yanks them out, one by one. Each time she pulls one out, I feel a sharp pain in my chest. The truth dawns on me; I could be one of her targets. If I came across her in the arena, I'd end up a lot worse than the dummy. _A lot worse._

Feeling a little sick, I turn away. I can't bear to watch any more, I'll end up throwing up and making a fool of myself. Then I'll be remembered. And people who are remembered get hunted down.

_Best to keep quiet, _I think to myself. _Stay out of people's way._

I look around the room, analysing each station. Most of them are occupied, except for one. Fire making. I nod to myself; fire making it is then.

On the way over, I pass some of the other survival stations. I can't stop myself from glancing at the tributes there, just a quick peep, but enough to notice any major skills. The boy from Seven, the one dressed as an elf at the parade, looks good at camouflage. He's in deep concentration, blending his hand into a rock. I have to do a double take at first, it looks too realistic. Ok, first note to self: always inspect rocks...

I also see various people being tested on edible plants. They seem alright, nothing really sticks in mind.

At last, I reach the fire making station. I feel kinda sorry for the instructor, he seems quite lonely over here. Hardly anyone goes to this station. I don't see why not, it's always useful to know how to make a fire. His face seems to light up as I approach the station.

"So, how do I make a fire?" I ask, my eyes wandering across the equipment.

"Well, let's start with the basics" He says, rubbing his hands together. "Twig fires"

I spend the next few hours rubbing sticks, stones and pretty much anything I find together to create small fires. I learn how to make quick fires for small chunks of meat and longer lasting ones for a bigger catch. By the end, I'm quite the expert.

The instructor is pretty impressed with my skills, being very encouraging. Shame I can't bring him into the arena with me...

As I'm leaving, he thanks me and I thank him back. He's a nice guy, not like some of the other instructors who have faces set like rock. Once I've left, I decide to have a go at edible plants. Most people have cleared from there, apart from one girl, I think she's the one from Twelve. As I reach the station, she looks up and smiles warmly.

"Hiya" She greets me, putting down one of the plants, then turning to the instructor. "Inedible. The pockets of sap contain a mild poison that gets into your bloodstream and slows it down"

The instructor claps her hands, seeming impressed. "Very good, that was quite a hard one"

The girl beams, clearly loving the attention and praise, then turns back to me.

"I'm Heidi, District Twelve. And you are?"

"Um, Rhea. District Ten" I reply, a little shyly.

"Nice name" She compliments, then adds with a little laugh. "Weren't you dressed as a cow for the parade?"

I feel my cheeks blush slightly with embarrassment. Yes, I was dressed as a cow. And yes again, it was awful.

"Um...yeah" I mumble. "I remember you were all painted black"

She nods, frowning. "Hmm... not my best look. But the cape was pretty awesome though"

"Yeah, it was quite awesome. It, like, flowed behind you like a fire" I agree.

Heidi smiles, then picks up one of the plants, holding it up to her face for inspection. Running her thin fingers along the rough surface of the leaves, she states. "Edible"

Following her example, I take a plant and begin to examine it. Although, I'm not really sure _how_ you examine it. So I just pretend I know what I'm doing, feeling the texture of the leaves and the stem, occasionally making a little 'hm' noise to try to seem interested. But, honestly, I have no frickin' idea whether it's edible or not. How can you tell? It just looks like an average plant!

I feel a sharp nudge in my arm. "So, is it edible or not?"

I stare at the plant, it stares back. I'm completely clueless. Why can't poisonous plants have like a little skull-and-crossbones symbol on or something? Anything to help me out here. Both Heidi and the instructor are looking at me, waiting for an answer. Is it edible or not? _Is it edible or not?_ IS IT EDIBLE OR NOT?

"Ugh, I don't know! I don't know anything about plants!" I wail, throwing the plant to the floor in despair.

Heidi stares at me for a moment, not blinking, then picks up the plant.

"It's not edible" She whispers.

"Ok then, so I probably would have eaten that if I saw it in the arena and died" I say, burying my face in my palms. "I'm just not good at this sort of thing"

A soft, comforting hand rests on my shoulders. "What _are_ you good at then?"

I lift my head up. "I dunno... Running? Throwing stuff?"

Heidi smiles. "Great! I'll take care of plants and you can deal with hunting!"

"What?" I ask blankly.

"When we get into the arena, duh. We'll make a great team!" Heidi announces.

"A team?" I query.

"You're gonna be my ally, right?" She says cheerfully.

I shrug. "Well if I'm this shockingly bad at edible plants, then I suppose I'll need someone like you"

"So that's a yes, right?"

"I guess it is"

Tal Fontaine, District 4 POV

Training is epic. There's everything I could possibly want. They even have a trident! Of course, I head straight for the weapon, ignoring all the survival stations. Showing off my skills is way more important than learning how to make yourself look like a tree. I mean, why would you want to do that when you have the opportunity to get in with the Careers?

Luckily, no one has taken the trident yet, I'm probably the only person who can use it. I am from District Four and Layla doesn't look like the trident sort of person. Oh well, her loss.

I jog over to the rack and lift out the trident. It's a little heavier than the one I'm used to at home, but I find no difficulty in swinging it around in my hand. I notice some of the Careers, the ones from Two, watching me from the corner of my eye. Perfect. So I take this as a chance to show what I can really do.

Walking, very confidently, over to some of the dummies, I grip the trident tight in my hand, wrapping my long fingers around the pole. Deliberately giving the other Careers no acknowledgement, I begin weaving the weapon through the air, dealing heavy injuries to those dummies in my path. The trident glides easily through the air, like a vicious extension on my right arm. It seems to impress the Careers, as two of them approach me.

"Nice work there" A tall, big built boy with dark hair compliments me. I'm pretty certain he's the one from Two, Kelvin.

"Tah...Kelvin?" I say, hoping that the name is right.

"No need to thank me. It's yourself you need to thank, cuz you've just earned your place in the Career pack" He grins.

Normally, I'd be leaping up in the air with joy, but I want to stay cool, so I just nod.

"Sure, glad to join" I say. "And I'm Tal, by the way"

The girl next to Kelvin steps forwards, holding out her hand. "Welcome to the pack, Tal. I'm Bryn, District Two"

"Hey, fancy training together?" I ask her, winking. She's quite pretty actually, with short brown hair styled in a pixie cut, which defines her small facial features. I think she's a little younger than me, fourteen or fifteen. But that's only one or two years younger, so there's no harm in a little flirting here and there, maybe...

"Sure" She shrugs, leading the way to a practise station.

Kelvin raises an sceptical eyebrow at me as I follow Bryn. I give him a sly wink back and walk away. He watches us for a moment, then turns back to his own training.

"So, Tal, you're good with tridents?" Bryn asks.

"I'm better than good" I say a little arrogantly. "You saw me before"

She gives a little snort. "Don't count your chickens before they've hatched"

"What?" I ask, confused with her unfamiliar expression.

She sighs. "I mean, don't jump to conclusions about yourself yet. You haven't even seen what some of us can do. You might be weak compared to us"

"Me, weak? Pfft, give me a break" I say. "I'm _way_ stronger than you. What are you, like, _fourteen_?"

"Age is just a number, Tal. It's skill that proves how tough we are" She says, grinning. "So, you up for a little challenge?"

"A challenge? Bring it on, but you'll be sorry when I kick your ass" I accept.

Bryn rolls her eyes and takes a handful of knives. She passes me a few, then stands a fair distance from some targets.

"Right, first test: Aim" She announces, beckoning me over. "Whoever gets their three knives the closest to bull's eye wins this round"

I nod, acting as if it's as easy as learning the alphabet. But actually, it's not quite that simple. All three of Bryn's knives hit pretty much bull's eye, whereas mine... well lets just say that they weren't as close as I'd hoped.

"Point to me that is" Bryn says, plucking out her knives.

"Well, aiming isn't my strongest point..." I mumble, feeling a little embarrassed.

_Geez Tal, pull yourself together. You're not gonna let some fourteen year old girl beat you at everything. Now that would be embarrassing._

The next round I feel a little better about: Weight Throwing. Although, I admit, I'm not the strongest of boys, I bet I'm much better than Bryn. She has pretty much no muscle at all, not to mention she's quite a small build. She probably can't lift much more than a small brick.

And I'm right. Her arms are fairly weak, so she only manages to throw the level two weight a few metres, while I just about get the level three the same distance.

"Guess I won that one, then?" I say, grinning.

"Guess you did" She says. "I predicted that result. Now it will make the final decider a little more interesting"

"The final decider?" I query.

Oh please be hand-to-hand combat or something. Or any form of fighting. I'm sure to beat her in anything physical.

"A race" She grins. "A lap around the course, first one back to the start wins"

Inside I feel like whooping for joy. Yes! I'm a great runner, one of the fastest back home. I win every race. Now this will just be an addition to my reigning title. Not to mention the hold I'll have over Bryn. Then we'll see who's counting their chickens early.

We walk over to the starting line, a thick red stripe across the black surface. Both of us bend in a ready position, eyes focusing ahead and our breathing concentrated. Our toes just behind the line, eager to edge forwards. After what seems like forever, Bryn whispers.

"Three...two...one"

We jet off.

My legs propel my body forwards at a high speed, moving back and forth like there's no tomorrow. My feet hit the ground lightly, barely staying for more than a nanosecond before rising again. The feeling as if I'm flying pumps adrenalin around my body, encouraging me further. My eyes flick over to the right and spot Bryn, about a foot behind me. Ha, I knew I'd be faster than her.

As I'm sprinting round the first bend, I feel a slight breeze on the side of my cheek. Puzzled, I look over and see that Bryn has taken lead, her short legs moving so quick I can barely see them. Cursing under my breath, I bite my lip and force more power into my legs. This gains me a little more speed and gives me the satisfaction of stepping before Bryn. I notice a small smile on her thin lips as she sees me. I manage a half smile back, as I try to channel all my energy to the lower half of my body.

I face ahead. The end of the lap draws nearer. The red line glowing up from the floor. Just a few metres away. Only a few metres until I win.

Bryn is edging closer to me now, the heat from her body radiating onto my bare arm. I'm still slightly ahead, but straining to keep it this way. Bryn, however, seems fairly comfortable retaining her speed. Much to my annoyance. There is no way on earth I'm giving in and letting her win. No way.

Ignoring her ever nearing presence, I focus on the winning line. _Almost there, Tal, almost there_. _Just a few more strides..._

Something crashes into my side.

I feel my body crumbling.

Tumbling.

The floor rising to meet me.

I hit it. Hard.

"Oh my gosh, Tal!" A voice exclaims.

I hear the light patter of feet and a small shadow is cast over me. I open my eyes, rubbing my head, and look up. Layla.

"Are you ok? You landed pretty hard" Layla asks, bending down to me.

I shake the slight dizziness off. "Yeah, I'm fine"

"You sure? Let me check you haven't... um, broken anything" She says and without giving me any choice, she pulls up the side of my shirt.

"I'm alright, really" I try to insist, but her hand is already pressed against my skin.

Her touch is warm and firm. Her fingers rub in circles, examining the skin over my ribs. I let her for a few moments, then suddenly think to myself. I only fell over, well got pushed over. My ribs wouldn't break from such a small fall. And, I would know if they did.

"Whoa, hold on a minute. My ribs aren't broken" I say.

Layla's cheeks flush slightly. "Oh, erm, no they're ok now..."

I nod slowly. "Uh huh. So I think you can, you know, remove your hands from my chest"

Her pink cheeks deepen into a scarlet red as she quickly moves her hands away. "Oh, um... sorry. I just...erm"

"You just what? Fancied feeling me up?" I tease.

"No" She replies quickly, so obviously embarrassed. "I wasn't trying to, um, you know... I erm, was worried...Oh, I'd better leave you alone..."

Saying no more, she scurries away, her face as bright as a clown's nose.

A cold chuckle comes from behind me. I know it belongs to Bryn even before I see her.

"Didn't scare your girlfriend off, did I?" She jokes.

I roll my eyes. "Purr-lease. As if I'd be interested in her"

"Thought so" She grins. "So, I think I won that, eh?"

"Err, no. If I remember correctly; you pushed me over" I state.

"And? I never said you couldn't" She replies, shrugging.

I glare at her mocking face. "Right, I call a rematch"

Heidi Fitzherbit, District 12 POV

Rhea seems like a nice person, even if she thought one of the most deadly plants was edible... But that doesn't matter, because I have my first ally!

Since the moment I was reaped, ok maybe _after _the emotional break down, I knew I had to form an alliance. Not just because I'm a people person, or that I don't want to get lonely out in the middle of the arena, but that I knew I wouldn't be able to survive long alone. I know I'm always trying to be positive, but seriously, there is not a chance, not even a teeny weeny itsy bitsy chance, that I could win this thing. In fact, I probably couldn't make it to the final ten. Or even the top half. Or past the bloodbath... But maybe, just maybe, if I had an ally, then I could increase my possibilities.

Nah, who am I kidding? I couldn't win. Never. No one ever wins from District 12. Ever. So I'm just the same old loser from the year before. And the year before that. And the year before that before that. Ok, you get the gist.

"Hello? Earth to Heidi?" A hand waves in front of my face, snapping me alert.

"What?" I say, my head jolting upright.

"You were in a daydream or something. Completely out of it. You almost put redvine into the edible category" Rhea tells me.

I stare at her in shock. "No, I didn't, did I?"

"I'm afraid you almost did" She says, then her face lights up. "Hey! I think I'm starting to learn this whole edible plants thingy!"

I find myself unable to join in the happy cheer, unable to praise her efforts. I can't stop thinking about it. What I almost did. Redvine as edible. What was my body doing? Redvine has got to be one of the worst plants ever. It's poisonous cells act like a deadly injection, slowly freezing your body until you're completely paralysed. I've heard stories about survivors. Not that there's many to tell. Most people die within the next hour after eating redvine. And I nearly put it in the stupid _edible _category. I'm supposed to be a nurse when I grow up. After my last reaping, if I hadn't been reaped before, then I was going to train to be a nurse. Not on some fancy course they have in richer Districts, but helping out the local herbalist and learning from her. Then I was going to set up my own little place. Call it something like 'Heidi's Healing Emporium' or 'Heidi's Healing Hideout'. Something with both my name and some jazzy alliteration. Pfft, so much for my dream job. Even if some freak thing happened and I won the Games, then I wouldn't be able to be a nurse. Nurses don't accidentally, almost say that redvine is _edible_.

"Ok, I wasn't paying attention. Obviously I know that redvine paralyses your body and only three percent of victims survive it" I cover my near mistake with extra knowledge.

"Wow, only three percent?" Rhea gasps. "I am staying well away from _that_"

I nod in agreement. "Hey, why don't we go and try out a few other stations? We need to pick up some skills and hopefully find someone else to join our alliance"

Rhea shrugs. "Sure. Why don't we try something I'm quite good at? Like, weights or something?"

"Oh, yeah, ok. Lifting heavy things sounds... fun" I try to sound enthusiastic.

Rhea senses my nervousness and takes my arm. "Don't worry, you don't have to lift anything up. You can go talk to your District partner while I have a go"

"Kay's there?" I ask.

"Yup, he looks pretty good. I think he's lifting a level five" She says, as we walk over.

As we approach the station, Kay notices us and places the weight down on the floor.

"Hi Heidi and..."He struggles for Rhea's name.

"Rhea" She tells him. "District Ten"

Kay nods. "Ah, one of the cows, right?"

Rhea's eyes narrow. "Yes. One of the cows. Why does everyone keep reminding me?"

"Sorry" Kay holds his hands up, as if to surrender.

She sighs and walks over to the racks filled with different sized weights. She takes one from around the middle, about a level two or three, and lifting it up and down, the muscles in her arms tightening with the weight.

I turn back to Kay. "So, what level is that one?"

He grins, bending down and picking it up with one hand. "Five"

"Wow, you're strong" I say a little flirtatiously.

Kay's quite good looking, with dark hair and gorgeous green eyes. Not to mention that he's strong as well. No that's my kinda guy.

"Hey, mind if I try?" I ask, gesturing to the weight. I know I won't be able to lift it... but that's the idea.

"You wanna lift this?" He asks. "I think it'll be a little heavy for you"

I shrug. "Nah, at least let me have a go. _Please_"

He sighs. "Fine, but I'll keep my hand near it in case it's too much"

I smile at him and wrap my fingers around the handle. As Kay lets go, I feel a sudden surge pulling down at my arm. Gosh, this is heavy.

I nearly topple over, unbalanced. But just as I planned, Kay steps in and grabs the weight, his other hand supporting my side to steady me.

"Whoa, Heidi. I told you it would be too heavy" He says, placing the weight back down. "You almost went over like a ton of bricks"

"But I didn't, because you saved me" I smile, with a slight flutter of my eyelashes.

At this point, Kay starts to laugh. "Heidi, are you trying to _flirt _with me?"

"Maybe" I say, teasingly.

Kay shakes his head. "Sorry, but I'm spoken for"

My heart sinks. "Oh. Well"

"No worries, I'm flattered though" He says.

"She's a lucky girl then" I smile, then hastily walk away.

I don't feel too hard on myself, I've flirted with guys with girlfriends loads of times. Even gay guys. That I thought were straight, obviously.

As I walk to see how Rhea is getting on, I notice her talking to another girl. I think she's the one from Six, maybe Seven? They both turn as I approach them.

"Hi, Heidi" Rhea says. "This is Harper"

Harper smiles at me and offers her hand. I shake it.

"I'm from District Six" She says.

I nod. "Ah, thought so"

Rhea looks to Harper, then to me. "Oh, I hoping it was ok if Harper could join our alliance?"

"Of course!" I beam. "So, Harper, have any helpful skills to offer?"

"I'm good at camouflage if that helps" She shrugs.

"Awesome! I'll be in charge of edible plants and healing any injuries; Rhea thinks she can hunt alright; and you can deal with keeping us hidden. That sound ok?" I ask.

Both Harper and Rhea nod.

"Great, we'll be like an all-girl alliance!" I say enthusiastically.

_Yes_, I nod to myself, _an all girls alliance_. I know us girls aren't as physically strong as boys, but we'll be fine, we don't need any boys. Who needs boys? Yeah, who needs them when you have a team as pretty as us? We're bound to grab up all the sponsors. Right?

Luna Damion, District 11 POV

I flex my wrist and push forwards, releasing my grip and sending the knife soaring through the air. I watch as it comes into contact with a dummy, a direct hit on the shoulder. The shoulder. How am I supposed to kill someone if I hit their _shoulder_?

A shudder falls down my spine. This is crazy; I shouldn't be thinking like this. My most common thoughts shouldn't be ways to kill a person. I'm sixteen year old girl from District Eleven. I have no family, except a four year old sister. And I always put others before myself. Yet how did my life get so messed up? One slip of paper with my name on. That's what completely changed my life.

I walk over and prize the knife from the shoulder. It makes a slight swiping sound as I swiftly pull it out. With the knife still in my hand, I look over to some of the other tributes. I find my lip trembling a little as I watch the Careers fling knives, hit targets, slice dummies. All with ease. Then I look at my attempt. A small wound in the shoulder, not much more than a few inches deep. I seem pitiful.

Another thing that is so unfair. Not only are some of us forced to fight to the death in an arena, but we have to go against people like this? Careers. The ones who have been training since they were five. Who see a sword as a regular object. Killing is second nature to them. But us other Districts, we have none of that. So how is any of this fair?

I slot the knife back in it's place and scan my eyes over some of the other weapons. I spot a spear. I go over to it, my eyes moving across it's long body and pointed tip. My hand reaches out and tightens around the pole. I pull it out.

It's weight is a shock to me, so sudden that my weak arms can't cope with it. Don't know what to do. I try to keep a firm grip on it, but my muscles don't respond. They vibrate, quivering from the strain. Unable to hold it from the constant pulling gravity. I try bringing strength from my back in an attempt to steady myself. But I can't. It's too much. The weight is overpowering for a small girl like me.

I feel the spear slipping as my arms begin faulter. I close my eyes, waiting for the loud crash and the point to pierce into my foot.

It doesn't come.

Confused, I lift my eyelids. And standing, holding the spear is a god. Not literally a god, but he's not far off. My eyes stare at his clean rounded fingernails, slowly edging up his tanned arms and curved biceps, then finally up to his face. His perfectly sculptured face. With mesmerising gentle brown eyes and a golden chestnut fringe flopping down on his forehead.

"Um, hello?" A voice cuts me from my daze.

"Oh, erm, what did you say?" I stutter.

He laughs. "I said; are you ok, you almost sliced your toes off"

My cheeks start to tingle a little. I hope I'm not blushing... "Oh right. Yes, I'm alright now"

He nods and leans the spear against a nearby wall. "Maybe you should stick to the lighter weapons"

"Yeah, I think maybe I should." I agree, then quickly add, "Thanks, by the way"

"No problem. You're lucky I was walking past, or you'd be hobbling around in the arena" He smiles. "Although, that would be quite entertaining to watch..."

"Hey!" I exclaim, jokingly tapping his firm shoulder. "I'd love to see _you _missing a few toes. See how funny _that _would be"

He chuckles, little dimples appearing in his cheeks. "I'm Zephyr, District Nine. And you, my dear, would be...?"

"Luna, District Eleven" I answer.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Luna, District Eleven" Zephyr bows.

"And you too, Mr Zephyr, District Nine" I do the same, adding a little curtsey instead of a bow.

When our eyes meet again, we both let out a giggle. His laugh is so warming, full of charisma. Whereas my laugh is one of those high pitched giggles, with the occasional small snort, which I hate. And typically, one slips out amongst my laughs.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I press my hand to my mouth, desperate not to snort again. I'm praying that Zephyr didn't hear it. But who am I kidding? Of course he heard it; it was as clear as a siren.

"Was that a snort?" He asks, laughing.

"Um, yeah... That kinda happens when I laugh too much" I admit. "It's awful, I know"

Zephyr shakes his head. "It's not that bad, it's quite cute. You sound like a little piglet"

He then starts to do an impression of a piglet, his nose scrunched up and making squeaking noises. This cracks me up even more, releasing further snorts.

"Please stop it, Zephyr. *snort* You're making me snort again!" I plead.

He laughs, snorting himself now. I know it's deliberate. But I see his point, it does sound quite cute. Well, it does when he does it.

Through the corner of my eye, I spot some of the tributes watching us. Not that I care, I'm not the only one laughing hysterically. They can stare all they want, at least I'm actually having fun. Something that none of us will be able to do in a few days. Except maybe some of the sick Careers who find it thrilling to murder defenceless teens.

I'm wiping a small tear from my eye when a girl, who looks remarkably like Zephyr, cautiously walks over. She goes to Zephyr's side and whispers in his ear, her eyes darting towards me. There's no doubt about it. She must be his twin. And a pretty jealous one too. The way her eyes glare at me is starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

Zephyr nods and turns back to me. "Sorry, Luna, I gotta go"

"Oh. That's ok. Well, I'll see you around then" I say.

"Yeah, sure. Bye then" He replies and walks off with the girl, muttering in her ear.

I left, watching him get further away, until he's just a small figure in the distant side of the room. I stand, not moving for a while, then someone whispers in my ear.

"Ooh, he's _gorgeous_"

My head snaps around and I see the girl from Twelve, two others a few metres behind.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm keeping well off. He's all yours" She says.

I nod slowly. "Ok... well, thanks..."

"Oh, no problem. There's plenty more fish in the sea for me" She shrugs. "Oh, I'm Heidi by the way"

"Luna" I say.

Heidi beckons the other girls and they come over. They introduce themselves as Rhea and Harper.

"So, are you three an alliance, then?" I ask.

They all nod and Heidi speaks. "Yup, we're forming an all girls alliance. Then we saw you throwing knives before and we were wondering if you want to join us?"

"Join your alliance?" I ask, feeling quite flattered. Is someone is actually asking me to join their alliance? Wow, today just keeps getting better and better.

"Uh huh" Heidi nods.

"Oh my gosh, of course I'd love to join!" I accept excitedly.

Heidi lowers her voice. "Our one main rule: No boys allowed. Not even fit ones"

I nod in agreement. "Got it. We don't need 'em anyway"

Harper pipes in. "That's the spirit! We'll show everyone in the arena what we're capable of"

Rhea comes in as well. "Hey, we should probably start on another station. What about trap making?"

"Sure, sounds fun" I agree.

Heidi makes us all link arms; something about looking like one unbroken bond of female kind. She's quite weird, with her little quirky enthusiasm and obsession with boys, but I like her. We all do, so she ends up acting a bit like a leader. I'm not bothered, as long as I have allies.

Rhea seems more of the getting-on-with-things kind of girl at the moment. She seems quite clever, often making useful suggestions. Not to mention she's the strongest of us four, so that will be helpful in the arena.

And Harper, she's quite a happy-go-lucky sort of girl. She's a little chubby, but always has a smile on her face. I think I'd be quite upset if she died. It would be like ripping away our ray of sunshine.

For the next couple of hours, we're engrossed in making traps. Surprisingly, I get the hang of it much faster than everyone else and I seem to have quite the knack for it. Probably because I'm so used to handling delicate plants in Mrs Mulberry's garden.

A sigh comes from Heidi. "Right, I think we can establish that I'm not the best at making traps..."

I glance at her half broken trap. "Hmm, I think you may be right"

She gives a soft groan. "Ok, I think I'm gonna take a break. My hands are killing me"

"Go ahead, I'm just finishing off this last one, then we'll move on" I say.

Harper's head lifts up. "Me too!"

"Me three" Rhea calls from her trap.

I look back to Heidi, who's now staring over to the edible plant station.

"Um, haven't you been there for hours already?" I question.

Heidi gives a vague nod. "It's not the station I'm looking at"

"What is it then?" I ask, puzzled.

She points over. "Fit guy alert"

Saying no more, she strides off in the direction of the station, fiddling with her hair as she goes over. I shake my head, what is she like?

I watch her as she greets him, then turn back to my trap. As I'm tying two ends of rope together, I notice someone looking at me from a nearby survival station. Zephyr.

He spots me noticing him and smiles, wiggling his eyebrows oddly. I laugh quietly to myself and pull my best pig-like face back at him. I see his smile grew. But then, his must be twin sister, tap his shoulder and he's dragged away like a kid from a candy store. And that's the last I see from him for the rest of the day.

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**A/N- Ok, so training is over! Next up is the scoring from the Gamemakers, which will be up faster, I promise! I wonder what the tributes will score...**

**So, what do you think about these four now? Anything changed about them? **

**How about the all girls alliance? Do you think it will work out in the arena? Did you like the more Tal/Layla moments? And do you think something will happen between Tal and Bryn? Also, what are your opinions on Zephyr and Luna? Is there a spark there?**

**Anyways, thanks to all who submitted and I hope you liked this chapter. Keep reading and reviewing, love you all!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	10. Private Sessions

**A/N- OMGale! I am sooo sorry for the really late update again! Well, the excuse is: I had no internet access. At all. Because we were supposed to be connected a week ago at home, but it only turned up this morning and I had a hard time setting it up cuz of the stupid house design... Then, I was on trips in school all this week so I couldn't use that internet either. But finally, I managed to get things sorted and can at last give this chapter to you all! I hope it's worth the wait and hassle :D**

* * *

Brooklyn Virgona. District 1 POV

I sit, twiddling my thumbs, my foot tapping impatiently on the smooth floor. It's too quiet, way too quiet. The sound of my tapping foot echoes down the length of the room. Not many people are talking, and if they are, they're whispering almost silently. I hate the silence. It's agonising sometimes, listening to the sound of nothing. Just an empty space where time seems to drag on and on. On and on.

"Renold Elmwood" A robot-like voice booms from a nearby speaker.

Ren, who's sitting to my right, stands up. Most of the other tributes lift their heads and watch him as he walks slowly towards the large double doors.

"Do us proud, Ren!" I call encouragingly after him.

He looks over his shoulder and gives me a brief smile. Then the doors slide open and he steps in. They close behind him like a solid wall of darkness, separating him from the rest of reality.

I have no concerns, I'm sure he'll do fine. He was pretty good in training, especially with the spears. District One will be presented with high scores, no less than 10. But, of course, whatever Ren gets, I'll get better. He may be good, but he's not a patch on me. I won't tell him this; he'll see for himself when the scores come out tonight.

Someone pokes my shoulder.

"So, Brooklyn, what have you planned for the Gamemakers?" Kelvin asks.

I shrug dismissively. "That would be telling"

"Oh, come on, at least tell us what sort of thing you're gonna do" He pleads.

"Fine, I'll tell you something" I say, lowering my voice. "I'm going to do everything"

Bryn's head pops in. "What do you mean, everything?"

"Oh you know, throwing knives, axes, arrows, all that stuff" I reply casually. "As much as I can cram in"

Kelvin nods his head. "Yeah, you'll have to put in a lot of effort to beat me"

I snort. "I can easily beat you. I'm more than just a pretty face"

"Actions speak louder than words" Kelvin says, flexing his muscles. "You'll have to get a good score to prove it"

"Fine. I'll look forward to whooping your ass and topping your score" I say competitively.

"In your dreams" He says, a little patronizingly.

I choose to ignore his little snide comment, turning my cheek and looking over at the doors. The doors that behind sit a room full of weapons and a booth full of Gamemakers. I can't wait to get in there. I can almost feel them watching me as my fingers trace along edges of knives, axes and can hear they're gasps as they-

The doors slide open and Ren walks out. He seems confident, fairly pleased with himself.

"How'd it go, Ren?" I ask as he walks past.

"I think it went quite well; they seemed to like me" He grins. "Your turn next"

I nod. "Yeah, I can't wait"

Ren gives me a thumbs up, before stepping back into the lift. The glass door swipes shut and he rises to the floors above.

"Brooklyn Virgona" The speakers boom again. My name. Brooklyn Virgona. That's me! My time has finally arrived. Show time.

Without a hesitation, I leap from my seat and walk quickly up to the door. The doors sense my presence and slide open. Just as I'm about to walk in, I turn my head around. Kelvin is grinning at me, urging for me to go ahead. I sneer back at him and face forwards. This is what I've been waiting for. My chance to show them what a Victor is made of.

The few mumbles of brief chatter fizzles out as soon as I walk in. The many sets of eyes turn to watch me as I stride to the middle of the room, my head held high and confident. Once I'm in line with the booth, I stop and give a short bow. This gains a few smiles from some of the Gamemakers; they know I'll be good.

"You may begin, Brooklyn" The head Gamemaker, Opus Trimarti, says.

I nod in reply and turn to look around the room. It's pretty much the same as the training room, except smaller and more compact. There are the same pieces of equipment and weapons as before, as well as a large selection of dummies and targets. Walking over to the weapon rack, I carefully select a weapon. I choose an axe.

Gripping it firmly in one hand, I go over to the dummies. Glancing over my shoulder, I can see the Gamemakers watching me intensively, waiting. I think I've delayed enough there, plenty of suspense. Now, to begin and put them out of their misery.

I tighten my grip and step back on one foot. Then, swivelling the top half of my body, I make a strong swing at a dummy, slicing it's head cleanly off. It lands with a soft thud on the flat ground. I don't pause for an applause, I just get on with my routine. I've had it planned in my head for days; what moves to make, leaving the best until last.

I execute my performance swiftly, taking notice of the many applauses, but not stopping to receive them formally. I allow the axe to flow freely through the air, slashing through stomachs, necks, heads. I keep at it until every single dummy is left in a crumbled mess on the floor. Then, I return the axe and give a quick bow to the Gamemakers. Their eyes are astonished, glowing like the sun itself. Well, I guess I'm doing better than Ren.

Next, I decide to move onto another one of my strengths: Archery. Over at the weapon rack again, I take a silver bow and matching sheaf of arrows. Standing quite a way from the targets, I load an arrow. I pull back the string, adjusting the position of the arrow so that the point is directed at the centre of the target. I let go.

The streamlined arrow goes shooting straight towards the target and a second later, I hear it stick. I look over; the end of the arrow is pointing out from the centre of the target. Bull's eye.

Now that the first is over, I finish off the rest of the arrows, sending them flying across the room and hitting every target perfectly. The air is full with the sounds of clapping and cheering, the Gamemakers obviously impressed with my skills.

The last arrow is sent and I place the bow back on it's hook. Walking slowly back to the centre of the room, I bow to the Gamemakers.

"Thank you for your time" I say politely.

"Ah, thank _you, _Brooklyn" Opus grins at me. "You are dismissed"

Without further hesitation, I turn on my heels and walk out the room. The doors slide open for me and I'm brought back into the world. Everyone lifts their heads to watch me as I go to the lift. My finger reaches up to the button marked '_District One Floor'._

"So, Brooklyn, how was it?" I hear Kelvin call to me.

Not turning around, I reply. "Couldn't have gone better"

My finger presses the button and within almost an instant, I'm on my way up.

Bryn Rosella, District 2 POV

Ugh, Brooklyn Virgona has got to be the most irritating, self obsessed person I've ever encountered. She thinks the world revolves around her pretty little body, swishy hair and tanned legs. She needs a reality check; she's not _that _stunning. I don't get why pretty much the entire proportion of male tributes turn as she walks in the room, their mouths dropping a few inches and their pupils growing wide. Even Ren, who never admits it, has a thing for her. I've seen the way his eyes drop when she stands near him, clearly eyeing up her legs. So shallow these boys are. So shallow.

And the way she walks around as if she owns the place, swinging axes around while taking extra care to put her ass in full view. She seems to think she's some Goddess or something. I hate girls like that.

Brooklyn has just finished her private session and honestly, she walked out like she'd won a medal. She's just presuming that she'll get an eleven or twelve. And she probably will, but I'm praying sooo hard that she doesn't and Kelvin does. If he beats her, it will make my day. No matter what score I get.

Speaking of Kelvin, he's in the room of assessment now. Hopefully doing something way more impressive than _her_.

"Psst, Bryn" Someone hisses my name.

I turn around and see Tal, two people behind from me.

"Come here" I beckon him to the empty seat beside me.

He nods and comes over, sitting himself down on the seat.

"Hey, how do you think old Kelvin's getting on in there?" Tal asks.

"Great, probably" I shrug. "I'm just wishing he does enough to beat Brooklyn"

"Ah, you really don't like her, do you?" He laughs.

"Like her? Why, she's my bezzie mate of course" I say sarcastically.

"Why do you hate her so much?" He quizzes.

I sigh. "Just everything about her really; her looks, her personality, the way she tries to make me feel inferior to her. It's as if I'm just a nothing because I'm younger than all of you"

"You're not that young. Fourteen is only two years younger than me" Tal says.

"Yeah, but you're two years younger than all of them. So that makes me _four _years younger" I say.

"So? Wasn't it you who told me that age is just a number?" He reminds me.

I smile. "Yeah, it is"

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "Then do us youngsters proud"

Tal seems to be physic, because the doors slide open and Kelvin walks out, looking very pleased with himself.

"I'm guessing it went well" I say to him as he strolls past.

He nods. "Yup, I'll tell you what happened in the apartment"

"Sure" I say.

"Good luck to you, you're next" He says, walking into the lift.

The door closes behind him and he's gone.

"Bryn Rosella" My name is called from a speaker.

"That's you then" Tal says. "Knock 'em dead"

"Will do" I reply, smirking and then heading over to the double doors.

They open as I draw nearer and I quickly glance back before they close and I'm left alone. Making my way to the middle of the room, I flick a stray piece of hair from my forehead. The walk isn't far and before I know it, I'm standing in front of a large group of Gamemakers.

"Bryn Rosella, District Two" I say clearly, making sure they take note of my name. Because I'm so young for a Career, they don't seem as excited, nor impatient for me to start. Just because I'm only fourteen doesn't mean I'm not as good as the others. Especially Brooklyn; personally, I think my aim is far better than hers. But I guess that's up to them to decide.

The head Gamemaker nods and makes a sharp cough, meaning for me to get on. I quickly turn away and hurry over to the weapon racks at the back of the room.

My eyes linger over the rows of freshly sharpened knives, small hints of light reflecting from the blades. I grab five of them out, slotting four of them into my belt and keeping one in my right hand. Jogging over to the target station, I look over to the Gamemakers, checking that they're watching. They are.

Eyeing up the furthest target, I wield the knife high in my grasp and flick my wrist fast. Releasing the knife, it goes swooping across the room and stabs the centre of the target. A quiet clap comes from the booth, but not quite as loud as I would have liked. So, I take two knives out this time, one in each hand and throw them both together. They split, going separate ways and then hit their targets. Again, a small applause.

I reach into my belt, two knives left. I know time is running low, not enough spare to grab more knives. I know I need to do something to leave them awestruck. I know I only have one chance. Two knives; one chance.

I take a step back and twist on my feet. My back is facing the targets, my eyes facing away. Through the corner of my eyes, however, I can see the Gamemakers. They look slightly puzzled, not knowing what I'm doing. They're watching me, fully focused, waiting for something to happen. Just the attention I need for my finale.

My hands reach down and grip the two knives. I pull them out. Now secured in a locked grip, I raise my arms. My eyelids close, my mind working fast. I'm picturing the target behind, drawing out a sense of direction. Opening my eyes, oh so slowly, I fling the knives back.

After a few seconds of torture, not knowing whether or not I succeeded, I finally hear that piercing sound of knives cutting into a board. I turn my head around, praying inside. I look over to the target boards. And there, sticking out from the centre point of the target, are two knives.

The uproar is phenomenal. The Gamemakers applaud much louder than before, some even standing from their seats. I look to them, beaming with pride. They smile back, even Opus, the head, winks at me. I want to scream, dance, sing. Anything. I can't believe I just did that. Me, Bryn Rosella, the youngest Career, has just performed one of the most advanced knife throws known in these Games.

So I can tell Brooklyn where to shove that.

Raymond Periwinkle, District 5 POV

At least a nine. That's what he said: _Anything more than a nine, you're in. Anything less, you're finding your own allies. _That's what Kelvin told me.

"Aim for a ten" I mumble to myself. "Yeah, a ten would be good"

Victoria, my district partner, suddenly looks up from her nails. "You what?"

"Oh nothing, just that I'm going to get a ten in training" I reply.

Victoria turns back to her nails. "Why does it matter what score you get? It's not like the person with the highest score will get special treatment or anything"

I sigh disappointingly. This girl doesn't understand a single thing about the Hunger Games; how can she not care about scores? They're like a badge you wear as a tribute, a start of your reputation. It's what the people in the rest of Panem see; a number. They don't know what we're capable of in training, that one number portrays that for them. If you get a high score, then people automatically respect you, remember you. But if you don't, then you're either laughed at or forgotten. And that could cost you sponsors, which could ultimately cost you your life. So how the hell can this girl tell me that scores aren't that important?

"Of course they're important!" I exclaim. "How else are you supposed to make an impression? How else are people going to remember you?"

"I don't want to be remembered" She says, flatly.

"I do"

"Why?" She asks, as if I've just said I want to leap off a building. "People who are remembered are easy targets. They're hunted down and killed by Careers"

I give a sly smile. "Not in my case"

"So you think you can beat a Career as easy as that, do you? Because, no offence, you are way out of that league" She says.

"No offence to you, but you are quite wrong there" I say.

She shakes her head. "Actually, I'm quite right. It's just common knowledge; a Career is much stronger than a stupid District Five boy. You don't stand a chance"

I sigh. "Oh, Victoria, you don't get it, do you? I'm not planning on fighting any Careers, I'm going to be one"

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah sure, whatever. Keep telling yourself that"

I don't bother persisting, she won't believe me. But why should she? I guess she kinda has a point; District Five boys are nothings compared to Careers. No, they're nothings anyway. People don't talk excitedly about _'that boy from District Five'_, it's always _'wow, how strong is that Career boy?' _or '_did you see what that boy from District One did?'. _The same words keep coming up: Career, One, Two, Four. Never anything else. Never Five. So what makes me think that I can be a somebody? Will power. That's what I have. I have the mental ability to set myself a task and my physical strength is just an added bonus. I wasn't born strong, I learnt. I taught myself. And today I'm here to prove it.

"Raymond Periwinkle" The overhead speaker echoes.

I stand up, ready to go.

"Have fun, Raymond" Victoria calls after me, as I head up to the doors.

I turn my head round. "Will do, Vicky. Oh, and please, call me Ray"

"Not if you call me Vicky" She shouts back.

There's no time to reply, as the doors are open and I'm stepping inside.

Gamemakers, here I come.

The room is dim, darker than I expected. But as I walk in deeper, small strips of illuminated panels come into view, lighting the edges of the rooms and the main stations. It looks pretty awesome actually, all dramatic and exciting. Exactly how I hope my performance will be.

The Gamemakers are all talking between themselves, but they quickly stop as I clear my throat sharply.

"My name is Raymond Periwinkle, District Five" I state, giving them time to digest my appearance.

I've made sure to pull my shirt tight across my chest, that way I can show that I have a lot of muscle. I want them to know that I'm well trained, even if I'm not a Career. Yet.

"Well, Raymond, you may start" One of the Gamemakers tells me.

I step back and look around the room. The wall at the back is lined with all kinds of weapons and equipment, ranging from a penknife to an axe. There are plenty of other stations set up; a running track; some climbing equipment and lots and lots of dummies and targets. I head over to the back wall, straight to the weights. I think I'll warm up by lobbing a few heavy things, then move onto some combat.

Analysing the weights, I go for a level five. There are seven levels in total, so five is pretty heavy. I grip the handle on the top and pull it from the rack. Once it's firmly in my grasp, I carry it over to one of the tracks. It's not a running track, but the floor is marked with thick red lines that kind of look like a sprinting section. Standing on the 'x', I twist my body to the side. I swing the weight a few times, building power for my throw. This has got to be good; I'm aiming for around four-ish metres, maybe five. It doesn't sound like far, but it really is when you're flinging a massive weight that seems to weigh more than twice of you.

The weight swings a fourth time. I tense my arms further, I'm throwing it in the next swing. I bring my arms back, bending on my back leg. Biting hard onto my lip, I push the my body forwards, bringing the weight with me. As soon as my arms rise, I release my grip and watch as the weight moves through the air and comes dropping back to the ground about four metres away from my standing position.

I walk over to it, checking how far I threw. It measures 4.56m. Yes.

As I walk back over to the weapon racks, I look to the Gamemakers. They begin to clap a little, appreciating my good shot. Well, I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm, seeing that it was a goddamned good throw. But, I can't complain. At least they're clapping.

At the weapon rack, I take out a hefty sword and swagger over to a group of standing dummies. The sword is the biggest they had and from the facial expressions on the Gamemakers, they seem intrigued. So they should be. It's a big sword for a non-Career.

I brandish the sword, just like I would at home. My first swing is a little off, slicing the dummy's shoulder instead of the neck I was aiming for. I shake it off. Probably just nerves. Or I haven't warmed into it yet.

Another swing, cutting across the top of the chest, by the collar bone. Better than the first, but not quite where I wanted. I keep my face looking cool, but inside I'm feeling like a bowl of jelly. Why can't I do this right? What's happened to me, Ray, the future leader of Careers? I feel like I'm losing my cool, losing my grip. I can't be doing this. What would my brother, Jake, say about this? He'd most likely laugh at me, keen to get his own back.

That's it.

Imagine that the dummy is Jake. Imagine his thin arms, barely any muscle. His rounded face with that hint of failure in his eyes. His hand, clutching at his sword that's really a stick. His little confidence in me. How he thinks I'm too arrogant to win this thing. How he doesn't believe in me.

I swing the sword.

A head hits the floor.

The feeling of success fills my mind. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm hacking at dummies, dicing them up as if they're vegetables in a stew. And it's great. I'm great.

So great that I'm going to get my ten.

Guthrie Zython, District 8 POV

"So, what are you going to show the Gamemakers?" My district partner, Annabeth, asks.

I shrug in reply.

"You've got to do something" She insists. "You can't just go in there and stand around doing nothing"

"Why not?" I say, sarcastically. "I thought the Gamemakers would love to see my posture; they'd probably give me a twelve"

Annabeth gives a little huff and looks away. "Sorry, I was just asking. There's no need to be sarky"

I sigh, rubbing my face over with my hands. "Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm just a little nervous, that's all"

She turns her head back to face me and takes my hands in hers. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be great. If you show them anything I've seen you do, then you're sure to get a high score"

"Thanks" I say, giving her small hands a little squeeze. "You too"

She smiles warmly back and pulls her hands away, placing them on her lap. Although it may seem so, there's nothing romantic between me and Annabeth. It's not that I don't like her or anything; she's pretty and really lovely once you get her talking, but we're more like good friends. We hit it off pretty much straight away, as if we were old friends, even though we'd never spoken before. And in training, we often went around with each other. But we never thought of each other as anything more than a friend, well I know I didn't. Besides, she's in love with her best friend back in Eight, Will. And me? Nah, there's no big crush at home. But that's not to say that there isn't one at all...

"Guthrie Zython" The announcement rings through the air.

My stomach twists, sending butterflies flapping down my body. I don't think I'm ready for this. Not yet. The few hours have gone way too fast. They can't be up to me already, can they?

I look to my left and see a row of empty chairs. Everyone before me has gone. Had their go. Over and done with. Now I'm at the front of the queue and it's my turn.

Annabeth prods my shoulder. "Guthrie, go on. You can't sit here all day"

I take a deep breath and release it slowly. She's right. I can't just sit here.

I stand up.

"Right, here I go" I say, nodding. "Let's get this thing done"

"That's the attitude! Now go and do District Eight proud" Annabeth smiles, urging me forwards.

I start to walk forward.

"Wish me luck"

"Good luck"

I reach the double doors. They slide open. Gulping in the air like a goldfish in a toilet, I try to fill my head with happy thoughts as I walk into the assessment room. Thinking about what Annabeth said_: You'll be great. Sure to get a high score._ Right now, I hope she's right.

The room is pretty much how I expected it. Just like a smaller, tightly packed, version of the main training room. Four main stations: combat, target, agility and survival skills. I bet hardly anyone has gone near the survival station, the Gamemakers are more interested in fighting skills more than how fast you can make a fire or whether you can name every plant. Which I suppose is great if you're a keen fighter, but maybe not so much if you're not. Luckily, I fit right in the middle; I'm quite knowledgeable on edible plants _and _I'm fairly handy with a sword. Not to be modest.

By the time I reach the spot in front of the Gamemakers' booth, no-one seems to notice that I've even entered. They're all chatting, whilst stuffing their faces with all kinds of fancy foods. Not a single one of them acknowledges me.

I give a muffled cough.

A few of them hear and glance over, then just turn back to their plates, blanking me entirely.

I stare at them for a while, gob smacked. I can't believe they're so ignorant. They're supposed to be Gamemakers; they're meant to _judge _us. How can they do that when they're not even watching you?

I cough louder.

More eating.

I cough sharply, even louder than before.

They all look up and turn towards me, their eyes glaring through my skull. They stare, impatient looks in their eyes.

"Ahem, Guthrie Zython. District Eight" I say slowly.

A few of them nod briefly and I turn on my heels and make my way over to the back of the room to choose a weapon to train with. As I'm walking, I glance over my shoulder to see that all the Gamemakers have gone back to their food and chatter. I feel like turning and yelling at them for attention, but I know I need to keep cool. I can play this game too.

Taking my time, as no-one's really interested, I ponder over the swords and finally choose one. It's a long sword, fairly light with a crusted handle. It sits nicely in my hand and all of a sudden I feel taller, bigger.

Strolling over to the dummies, sword in hand, I look to the Gamemakers again. Just as before, they're not paying much attention. I don't really understand why; sure, they've watched fourteen other people before me, but they've still got plenty more. Why switch off when you're around halfway? They must have very short attention spans.

I stand amongst some dummies, debating on what to do. Do I start hacking at them like a wild man, in the hope of gaining attention? Or do I craft something more clever than that?

I think the second choice sounds more fun.

I turn the sword in my palm, grinning. Yes, this will be a lot more interesting. For both me and the Gamemakers. And, better for them, they don't even have to watch.

I spend the rest of my assessment carefully sculpturing into the dummies, carving their bodies with the edge of my sword. By the time my session is over, I've made a nice little display for the Gamemakers. I step back to admire my handiwork. I'm quite pleased with it actually, I did a good job. Well, I've always been a crafty, artistic type of boy and I have been known to do the odd little art project here and there with the scraps my Mom throws out.

Then, I return the sword and walk back to the booth. No-one turns to dismiss me as I take a short bow.

"Thank you for your time"

I then turn and head straight for the door, leaving my life-sized sculpture behind. I can only wish to be a fly-on-the-wall when the Gamemakers see what I've left them.

* * *

**A/N- Ok, so there are the private sessions! What did you think, did anything surprise you?**

**So, did you think Brooklyn will beat Kelvin, or not? What are your thoughts about Bryn and her hate for Brooklyn, is she being harsh? And Raymond, do you think he will get his ten and get in with the Careers? And last of all, Guthrie, how well do you think his little 'surprise' will go with the Gamemakers? **

**Let me know all your thoughts! And thanks to all who submitted!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

* * *

**Oh, and here are all their total scores. Let me know what you think about them. I think I've done them fairly, but let me know if you're not happy with any :D**

SCORES.

**District One** _Ren Elmwood: 10_ Brooklyn Virgona: 11

**District Two **_Kelvin Galloway: 11 _ Bryn Rosella: 10

**District Three **_Fickle Fletch: 2 _ Inva Reinhardt: 8

**District Four **_Tal Fontaine: 10_ Layla Roberts: 7

**District Five **_Raymond Periwinkle: 10_ Victoria Buchegger: 7

**District Six **_Jacob Finney: 8_ Harper Sanders: 6

**District Seven **_Phosphorus Vox: 4_ Arya Firestone: 8

**District Eight **_Guthrie Zython: 8_ Annabeth Rylie: 7

**District Nine **_Zephyr Torelli: 9_ Elodie Torelli: 3

**District Ten **_Horacio Francis: 1_ Rhea Blakemore: 8

**District Eleven **_Brandon Thessien:_ _10 _ Luna Damion: 7

**District Twelve **_Kay Grinestone: 8_ Heidi Fitzherbit: 6


	11. Interviews

**A/N- A billion trillion gazillion apologies people! Soooo sorry for the late update...again. I've been mad at myself. But, I know you're probably bored of excuses... I was at a wedding all weekend. And not just a random person's, it was my Mum's wedding. So yeah, all the week before I was at hairdressers and florists and cake shops and all that jazz sorting stuff out, so I couldn't write. Alas, I have finished and I hope it's worth the wait x**

* * *

Kelvin Galloway, District 2 POV

I tug at the collar of the shirt, loosening it around my neck.

"God Kelvin, how many times do you have to fiddle with that damn collar?" Bryn moans.

I release my grip on the collar. "As many times as it takes to get it right. I can't decide whether it looks better open or closed"

Bryn sighs, rolling her eyes. "Here, allow me"

I sit still and let her adjust the shirt, unbuttoning the collar and pulling it open a little. The relief is great, feeling some air against my neck. Yup, the collar was definitely a no no, way too tight. I'd probably end up choking halfway through my interview.

Bryn's hand hesitates as her fingers hover over the first few buttons of my shirt. I let out a laugh at her pause, deliberately trying to cause her to feel awkward.

"What?" She glares at me, her sharp blue eyes staring daggers.

I wink. "It's ok, I don't mind. Feel free to open a few buttons..."

Her hand suddenly lashes out at my face, leaving behind a sharp stinging sensation across my cheek.

I stare at her for a moment, shocked. Did she...a little fourteen year old girl..._slap me?_

"_What_? What was _that _for?" I exclaim, frowning deeply.

She snorts. "So surprised, are we Kelvin? Didn't expect such a little girl to be so violent?"

"Yeah, well maybe. But why did you slap me like that?" I ask.

"Pfft! You're lucky you only came out with a little slap! Anyone else might have beaten you to a pulp for saying that to a fourteen year old girl"

"What? I didn't do anything; you were the one with your fingers fiddling with the buttons of my shirt!"

"Shut up you moron" She snaps. "I don't fancy you, idiot. I was just trying to make you look a little less formal and more like yourself. I thought the whole buttoned up look was too fancy and that you'd be more comfortable with one or two open"

"Well, sorry then" I say, holding up my hands. "Mixed signals"

Straight after saying that, I know it was a mistake. Bryn knows it too, as I receive a second slap, this time on the other cheek.

"Ok, ok, I'll stop winding you up" I say, giving in. I don't want my whole face burning like I've been lit with a match. "And, on a positive note, you're quite the Career"

Bryn smirks and leans back into her cushioned seat, looking rather smug and pleased with herself. So she should be; I just gave her a compliment. Me. That's rare.

"Kelvin Galloway, two minutes" A woman calls.

"Yes, that's me" I say, almost leaping up from my seat.

"Wow, really?" Bryn says sarcastically. "No shit Sherlock..."

Ignoring her sarcasm, I head over to the woman. She nods and beckons for me to follow her. I walk a few paces behind her as I'm taken down a narrow corridor. Wires scatter the floor and I find it hard to step around some of them, as my feet aren't particularly small... We walk down a bit further until the woman suddenly stops and turns to me.

"Stay" She orders, then disappears behind a black curtain.

I do as I'm told and wait, tapping my foot impatiently on the shined floor. I can hear crowds clapping and cheering, so I'm guessing I'm standing just behind the stage. Backstage. If I'm correct, then the door in front of me leads to the stage. That stage I've been waiting my whole life to get on. The interview I've been waiting my whole life to do.

I look above the door and spot a panel displaying a countdown. I watch the numbers count down from ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.

I straighten my shirt

Six. Five. Four.

I rumple my shirt.

Three.

I tuck in my shirt.

Two.

I untuck my shirt.

One.

There's no time to adjust my shirt again, as the door opens and someone points for me to go on. I run my hands through my hair quickly and step up.

A brilliant bright light greets me as I walk onto the famous stage. I look forward to the crowds; rows and rows extend further than I can see. All dressed in extravagant clothes and chanting my name. This is definitely worth the eighteen year wait.

Morgana Volptura, this year's host, has stood up to greet me. She's dressed in a full gold outfit that hugs her thin body tightly and across the chest is a glowing, light up number 500. She may be playing the part, but wow does she look ridiculous.

"Kelvin! Come and take a seat!" She says, holding her arm out to the empty chair opposite.

I walk over and take the seat, falling back into it's squishy material. It's a pretty comfy seat, I've got to say. If this wasn't one of the most important moments of my life then I swear I could fall asleep in this seat.

"So, Kelvin. It's great to have you here" Morgana begins. "Firstly, how are you enjoying the Capitol? Anything in particular that stands out?"

"Ah, it's great. Everything I imagined and more" I start. "And I guess everything stands out to me"

"Yes, I agree with you there; the Capitol is _fabulous_" She agrees. "Right, let's move on to the exciting bits"

Morgana winks to the audience, which causes a massive uproar of cheers.

"So, you're a Galloway. Does this make you feel any more confident?"

"Does it heck" I say, earning a few laughs from the audience. "Well, I'd be mad not to see it as a sort of omen. We all know the Galloway sons' on going tradition; every single one becomes a Victor. And I'm going to continue that tradition"

"Ah yes, I remember the year your father won. I was, of course, just a child, but I always remembered that year" She says, then adds. "And I'm sure everyone will remember _this _year. Not only is it a Quell, but we have another Galloway!"

I grin. "Yup, we'll all remember"

Morgana smiles in return. "So Kelvin, did you plan on volunteering for a Quell?"

I shrug. "Well, not intentionally, it was just by chance that my eighteenth happened to fall in the same year as a Quell. And I'm so glad it did, it will certainly make it even more exciting for me"

She nods in agreement, then leans back in her seat.

"Ok Kelvin, what we all want to know is how do you plan on winning the Games?"

A huge smirk takes over my face. "Well, let's just say that it will be a piece of cake..."

Jacob Finney, District 6 POV

"Oh for goodness sake Jacob, will you stop bouncing?" Harper says, agitated.

"I'm not _bouncing_..." I deny.

"Yes you are! You look like you're stuck on a pogo-stick or something" She says.

I look to my legs; they are a little jiggy, but I'm not _bouncing_. But hey, I can't help it if I'm excited. It's the interviews!

"Hmm, I have to agree with miss stocking girl, you are kind of irritating me now" My mentor's voice pipes in.

He's sitting just across the room from us, feet up on a coffee table and a snapped toothpick sticking out his mouth. He looks so rough, slouching there, with his dark scratchy looking stubble and uneven mop of ebony hair that looks as if it hasn't been washed in over a decade. It's not only the way he looks; it's the way he acts as well. He just sits there, eating, drinking, chewing, smoking, making crude comments when the time suits him. And he says _I'm _the irritating one.

"Good" I sneer back, then have a thought. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be out there in the audience?"

He gives a fake yawn. "Uh, boring. Nah, I'd much rather sit back here and do nothing"

As he stretches out further, I hear a mumble coming from Harper.

"Yeah, I bet you would"

Damien's eyes dart over to her almost immediately. "I would and that's exactly what I'm doing"

"When you should be out there _supporting _us like all the other mentors!" She raises her voice. "But you wouldn't know support if it hit you right in the face. And as for the mentor bit..."

"What about the _'mentor bit', _eh?" Damien stands up. "Go on, tell me what you want to say"

Harper takes a breath. "Look, Damien, I'm not an expert on all this, but from what I've experienced; you're an awful excuse for a mentor"

"Well I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough?" He replies.

"No!" She exclaims. "A mentor is supposed to give advice, help their tributes. Yeah, it might not be the best advice sometimes and they may be sick and tired of the same thing every year, but they should at least _try _to give support!"

He spits out his toothpick. "Fine. You want advice? Here, take this in: make the most of your last couple of days, because you ain't gonna live for much longer. That good enough for you, Hattie?"

"No, not really" She says. "Oh, and it's _Harper_"

Damien grunts and walks out the door, slamming it loudly behind him.

Once he's out of earshot, I turn to Harper.

"Wow, what happened to miss sweet, smiley stocking girl?" I laugh.

She rolls her eyes. "Don't call me that. And how could I be nice to someone like him?"

I shrug. "Yeah, I suppose he is a bit of an asshole"

"A bit?" She quizzes, a sceptical eyebrow raised.

"Hey, you know what? You're not that bad, Harper, not that bad" I admit.

"Gee, thanks. I never thought a 'babe magnet' would ever like me" She says, forming quotation marks with her fingers.

I'm just about to laugh and say something sarcastic in return, but the door opens and a woman calls over to us.

"Jacob Finney, you're up next"

"Good luck, Jacob, I'll be watching you" Harper grins as I'm leaving the room after the woman. "Just try not to be as big a pig-head as you are behind the scenes"

I roll my eyes at her and close the door, following the woman down a backstage corridor. We walk down for a few minutes, until we reach a door labelled 'Stage'. I'm guessing through there is the stage.

The timer above the door clicks to zero and the door swings open for me. I step up to find myself standing on a brightened stage, in front of thousands of Capitol people. All of their eyes set on me, their hands clapping wildly as I make my way to the centre.

This year's host, Morgana, is sat in a large swivel chair and gestures for me to take the empty one opposite. I swagger over, making myself look as cool as possible. Not to mention the odd little winks to cute Capitol girls sitting on the front rows.

One girl, with blue streaked hair and thick eyeliner, catches my eye. She's pretty fit. So I make an extra special effort to wink at her; she seems to notice and her pale cheeks flush red under the bold lights.

I reach the centre stage and take the seat. Morgana holds her small hand out to me and I shake it. Firmly. Just to show that I have strength.

"Welcome, Jacob" She smiles warmly. "Ooh, you have a nice grip. Very solid there"

I grin. Yes, I do.

"Why thank you, Morgana. I do try my best to keep in good shape" I say, casually flexing a bicep towards the audience.

"Mind if I feel?" Morgana asks, glancing over to the audience, who cheer in response.

"No, go ahead" I reply, tensing up my arm.

Morgana's hand rests on my bulging bicep, ever so slightly squeezing the pure muscle. She seems rather impressed.

"Wow, Jacob, it seems you are in good shape" She says, removing her hand from my arm.

I can't resist the urge. I just have to.

"That's not all, ladies" I announce, rising from my seat. "There's a whole lot more"

Saying this, I take the bottom of my shirt and lift it up to my chest, revealing my carved six pack. At once, the audience erupt into cheers and wolf whistles and even the girl with the blue streaks seems mega impressed. I keep it up for a few more moments, letting the image sink in, then pull the shirt back down and retake my seat.

Morgana's face when I look to her is lit up. Her eyes glowing like diamonds and her face seems a little pink.

"Oh my gosh" She gasps. "I wasn't expecting _that_!"

I grin, nodding. "Ah well, you see Morgana, I'm full of surprises"

Arya Firestone, District 7 POV

The Capitol. The city of murderers, vicious liars, twisted personalities. The dominating city of power, control, cruelty. It rules over us Districts, uses us. Forces us to provide for them, with what in return? A one way ticket to death.

I hate it with such an undying passion, yet I'm in awe of it. Completely. From the moment I arrived in the train, my mouth has never closed. Gaped open like an opening of a cave, unable to speak barely more than a short sentence. My eyes are wanderers, keen to spot every detail.

And what I've seen is beyond what I could ever have imagined.

It's like another world, as if I've walked through a portal and entered a fantasy universe. Like one I've read about in books: only it's real. The Capitol is real. Every last towering, colourful building; every oddly dressed person; every delicacy; is all real. And now, I'm a sort of part of it. A guest.

I sigh. Because with all this luxury, comes a price. A price I'd rather not make.

"So..." Phosphorus, my district partner, tries to start a conversation.

"So...?" I mimic him.

He gives me an evil glare, which honestly looks more like a stubborn child refusing to homework rather than an annoyed expression... And I can't take him seriously when he frowns. At all. But hey, it's not my fault he has such a cute babyish face and looks a lot younger than is fourteen years. Which, I suppose, is quite a good thing. He'll probably rake in the sponsors easy peasy. Whereas me; I'll be extremely lucky to receive anything. I'm not cute or loveable. Not cheerful or smiley. Neither am I sexy or beautiful. I'm just a plain seeming girl, with boring matt black hair and not a single curve to be found on my skinny frame of a body. Boys don't find that attractive; not that I'm bothered. But, even so, the pretty girls often grab up sponsors. And if there's any sponsors left, who would want to sponsor someone like me?

"So, what are you gonna act like on stage?" Phosphorus asks, no longer 'glaring'.

I shrug. "I dunno. Probably quite secretive and mysterious"

"Hmm, interesting" He says, nodding.

"What about you?" I ask. "What angle are you going for?"

"Well, since the parade, I've been aiming for a weak and pathetic outlook. If you know what I mean" He opens his pale blue eyes wide and for a moment, he looks so vulnerable and innocent that you'd mistake him for a fallen cherub. Except thinner. With clothes on. And less creepy. Ok, come to think of it, that was a really bad comparison.

"Ah, so that's why you got a four in training..." I pause for a moment, then add. "I thought you were just useless"

He gives a small, annoyed gasp. "I am not useless! Besides, I would have got a much higher score if I was trying"

"Really?"

"Really"

Seconds later, the door swings open and a woman stands before us. She beckons me forwards with an extended, bony finger.

"Arya Firestone" She says. "Your interview begins in less than two minutes"

"Oh, right" I say and hurriedly rise from my seat.

I scurry over to her, quickly raising my hand to Phosphorus in a way to say goodbye. He returns it with a smile and mouths words of good luck to me. I smile back, then walk down after the woman, the door closing firmly shut behind me.

The walk down the dim corridors is fairly short, but I wish it was longer. With each step I'm getting closer and closer to that stage. That stage where the whole of Panem will watch me, listen to me. Judge me.

There are only two things that portray who you are before the actual Games; your training score and your interview. You can't really count the parade, I think, as everyone knows it's more like a battle between the stylists. Who can make their tribute look the stupidest. Although, fortunately, I got off lightly. A woodcutting elf is much better than a cow. Anyways, ignoring the parade, you only get two chances to express who you are before you're in mortal danger.

And often. neither of them are helpful. As most people put themselves in a different light. Try to be someone else. Have an angle. Sweet. Arrogant. Cute. Callous. Lovable. Sly. So most of the time, it's just a fake image until they unleash their true identity in the arena. That sounds unfair, but it's just the way it goes. You do whatever you can to be liked, then do whatever you can to survive.

I'm now standing on the stage, my feet inches away from the spotlights. Only a small proportion of people can see me at the moment, but everyone knows I'm here. So there's no hiding now. No chance to run away. Cower under some desk, chair, bed. I'm here and there's no turning back.

At a steady pace, I walk smoothly to centre stage.

Two chairs, facing opposite one another, stand before me. One is occupied by this year's host: Morgana Volptura, who's been doing this job for the past three years. In previous Games, I've always thought she was a little irritating. Like a nagging little sister or a loud gossip. She always starts off asking light questions, to make you feel at ease, but before you know it, you're revealing your darkest secrets to thousands of people.

But I'm not going to let that happen to me. Nah, I'm stronger than that.

"Arya!" Morgana beams at me.

I do not smile back. And, ignoring her offer of a hug, I sit down.

Morgana seems a little disappointed, but quickly brushes it off and begins the trailing line of questions.

"Well, let's begin at the beginning, Arya. How were you feeling at the reaping? Were you particularly nervous?"

I shrug dismissively. "It was the reaping. I was used to it"

"Of course, you have been through a few" She nods. "But this year is a Quell; did that make you feel any different?"

"It's still the same thing, right? Twenty four kids get put in an arena, only one comes out" I say.

Morgana looks a little awkward, obviously not expecting an answer like that. But what else can I say? _Ooh, a Quell, yay!_ doesn't really fit in with my whole angle.

"Yes, there are no changes to the amount of Victors in this Quell... But there is still the big twist!" She tries. "What are your feelings on that?"

I shrug, again. "Not bothered. The Gamemakers can't exactly put my biggest fear into the arena"

"How come?" Morgana asks, leaning closer and expecting me to tell her this big secret. As if I would. I'm not that stupid.

"Let's just say that this fear isn't such a physical thing..." I say secretively.

"Oh, Arya dear, don't think like that" She sighs. "We've had these situations in previous years and the Capitol always find a way"

My eyes look to the floor. Always find a way? I know they're very clever in the way they run the Games, but can they really do that? Can they find a way?

I look back up, determined to keep up my act. Pretending not to be bothered, pretending to be strong. But inside, I'm thinking: I sincerely hope not.

Annabeth Rylie, District 8 POV

My palms are sweaty; I wipe them on the bottom of my dress where it cuts off just above my knees. My heart is beating faster, louder; I try to breathe slowly and deeply. My head is spinning; I walk over to the table.

I grab a crystal glass and pour some cold water. Bringing it to my lips, I take a few long sips. The clear liquid runs down my throat, cooling it and making me feel slightly less dizzy. I take a few more gulps, then place the glass back down on the table.

"You ok?" Guthrie asks as I sit back down.

"Just feeling a little dizzy" I reply. "The whole thing is a little daunting"

He nods, understandingly. "Yeah, I know. It's, like, the whole of Panem watching you and passing a judgement. Hundreds of thousands of people all listening to every single little word that comes out of your mouth and making their minds up about you. And if you-"

I slap his arm, not too hard but enough for him to shut up.

"You're supposed to be making me feel better! Not making me wanna wet myself with fright!" I exclaim.

"Oh right, what I meant to say was...um, how exciting and thrilling the experience will be. And how much fun it will be to tell everyone about yourself..."He tries to cover.

I roll my eyes at him. "Yup, so thrilling..."

He sighs. "It can't be that bad, surely"

"Hmm, I suppose it's just answering questions..." I say. "But what if they ask something about Will?"

"Then you tell them about Will" He tells me.

"But he'll be watching!"

"Even better" Guthrie winks, wiggling his eyebrows. "You can go into all sorts of details"

My eyes narrow. "Seriously, Guthrie? It's embarrassing enough without you going on about 'details' "

A cheeky grin appears on his face. "Ah, but you've gotta love me, right?"

"Wrong" I say, pushing him so that he loses his balance and falls off the edge of the seat.

He lands with a soft thud on the floor and I'm about to laugh at him when the door suddenly bursts open. A woman wearing a sharp suit says my name.

"Annabeth Rylie"

"Yes?" I ask unsurely.

"Your interview is beginning in approximately one minute and fifty two seconds" She tells me, checking her watch.

"Oh" I say, quickly standing up and straightening my dress.

I then turn to Guthrie, who's pulling himself to his feet, and give him a quick wave and smile. He gives me the thumbs up and points for me to follow the woman, who has already made her way out of the room and is hurrying down the corridor.

Hurrying, I take off after her.

It doesn't take me too long to catch up to her, and luckily, the corridor is straight ahead so I can't get lost. Without so much as a word, she makes a sharp turn and I almost go into the back of her. She gives a little grunt and tells me to wait behind a large door.

"The door will open when it's time" She says, then disappears off into the shadows of a curtain.

Standing alone, I begin to feel nervous again. Guthrie managed to keep the butterflies at bay, but now they're flapping around wildly in my stomach. Just like they do when Will is around. _Did_, I correct myself, _they don't anymore because Will isn't here. He's back home in Eight and you'll never see him again. So stop thinking in the present; Will's in the past now. Just like everything else._

I know I'm being a little harsh on myself, but I can't let my emotions get in the way now. I know that if I start thinking Will I'll get all upset and sniffly. I'll start remembering all those little things I love about him. From his smile, to the way he always stands with his hands thrust in his battered pockets as he waits outside my front door. I had always moaned at him for doing that, telling him that he'd get sweaty hands and girls don't like sweaty hands. I don't like sweaty hands. But right now, I would do anything to hold one of his hands, one that has been sitting in his pocket all day.

I close my eyes and a single tear trickles down my cheek.

The door that stands before me suddenly opens and I hastily wipe away the damp puddle on my face. Gulping, I step through the door and onto the stage.

I'm going to do this for Will.

When I next open my eyes, I feel like I've entered a dream. Lights everywhere; both small beams and large spotlights. Bright, vivid colours of both the stage and the audience. And the cheers, whoops, whistles. All as I stand on the stage.

Cautious not to trip, I make my way to centre stage, where the host, Morgana, is waiting for my company. As I reach her, she waves her hand over the empty seat and I take it gladly. My legs were shaking quite a bit, so I'm relieved to sit down. The last thing I'd want is to collapse on the floor. _That _would be embarrassing.

"A very warm welcome to you, Annabeth" Morgana smiles kindly. "How are you feeling?"

"A little nervous" I admit quietly.

"Don't worry, I'll start off with the nice questions first" She assures me.

_What is that supposed to mean? Nice questions?_

"Ok, firstly, tell me how you were feeling the day of the reaping" She begins.

"Erm, well I was quite nervous" I start. "I had to take out tesserae; my brother is still too young"

"How old is he?" She asks.

"Five" I answer. "His name is Takai"

"Aww, he sounds adorable" Morgana says. "I'm sure he'd love it if you said hello to him"

I smile, then look directly into the main camera. "I love you very much, little Takai"

This earns a huge 'aww' from the crowds. I can even see some of the women dabbing their eyes with silk hankies. An idea sparks off in my mind. If the audience are feeling sentimental and emotional over a little five year old brother, then how will they react to a tragic love story?

_Will_, I say in my mind,_ please don't be mad with me if I tell the whole of Panem about us._

"So, Annabeth" Morgana cuts straight back into the interview. "We know you have a little brother, but do you have anyone else you'd like to tell us about?"

I can tell by her wink that she means a boyfriend or crush. The audience know too, as they all drop silent, waiting for an answer.

I look to the floor, pretending to feel embarrassed. "Well, yes. There is this one boy..."

"What is his name, Annabeth?"

"Will"

As soon as I say his name, I feel fluttery inside. I know he's watching this. Watching me. And I wish I could see him too.

"Tell us about Will" Morgana says, eager to know more.

I sigh. "Well, we've been friends since we were really little, but I always had a crush on him"

I can picture him now, standing with one hand in his pocket, the other running through his light brown mop of hair...

_"Will, you can smooth it down as many times as you want, but it will never stay " I laugh._

_"Sure it will" He insists. "All I need is a little bit of water"_

_He spots a bucket, half filled with water, and dips the tips of his fingers in. _

_"Haha, see?" He grins, as he begins to smooth down his hair. "It stays"_

_"Not for much longer" I say, quickly grabbing up the bucket and pouring the contents over his head._

_He yelps, making an attempt to dodge the incoming water, but just misses. The water drenches him from head to toe, causing his t-shirt to stick to his toned torso._

_I'm caught off-guard, distracted by his body, that I don't have time to react to the wave of water washing over my head. It soaks me, entirely. Not a single patch dry. I turn and give him the evils._

_"Hey, you're gonna pay for-"_

"Did you ever tell him?"

I look up in surprise. "What?"

"Ooh, been daydreaming about this Will, eh?" Morgana chuckles and my cheeks flush deep scarlet. "I said; Did you ever tell him how you felt?"

"Oh no, I couldn't" I say, my cheeks still flaming. "I guess I was too embarrassed and shy to tell him; I didn't want it to affect our friendship. And I didn't think he felt the same way"

A comforting hand rests on my arm. "What did he say when he came to say goodbye?"

I bite my lower lip. "He said he loved me"

* * *

**A/N- So then... the interviews are done, which leaves only one more chapter before the arena! DUN DUN DUNNNNNN. I'm excited. Very excited. I hope you are too. You should be. People die. Isn't that exciting? No? Oh, right, just my weird brain.**

**Anywhooo... what are your thoughts about the interviews? Do you think Kelvin should be that confident? Do you think Jacob has much chance, we know he's got the muscles (ahem), but does he have the brains? And Arya, any particular thoughts on her and do you think she has what it takes to get far? Finally, Annabeth (aww), what did you think about her story about Will, and do you reckon she'll do well for him?**

**As usual, let me know EVERYTHING. Keep reading and reviewing. Thanks for all who submitted and I promise you that I will update quicker. This time, I honestly will. I've broken up from school, so I have no more excuses. Yay.**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	12. Night Before

**A/N- Ok... right... this is much later than I expected... Oops. Sorry. I don't really know why this took me so long... some my inspiration was running low I'm guessing. Oh well, I have at last finished the final chapter before the games! Enjoy ;D**

* * *

Inva Reinhardt, District 3 POV

I dip my toe into the hot, steaming water. It stings a little, but not enough for me to pull it out. Slowly, as not to overwhelm my body, I slide into the bath. The same, stinging feeling greets me and it takes several moments before I can relax comfortably.

Well, by relax I mean just my body; I can hardly relax my mind. So many thoughts at one time, in one brain, can give you such a headache.

I close my eyelids gently, in an attempt to ease the pressure, and sink further into the scalding water. Air-filled bubbles slide over the top of my torso, creating a sort of protective layer, like bubble wrap. I lift my hand from the water and brush over the bubbles, most resist my touch, while a few of them burst.

I pause and look at the bubbles, another thought forming in my mind. In a way, the bubbles represent tributes; some resist and survive another day, while others break easily and lose. And the cycle will keep going on until eventually only one bubble remains unbroken. Until one Victor remains unbroken.

Sighing, I wipe away the bubbles and sit up. I look to my right, which happens to be a wall, and scan my eyes across the many shelves, filled to the brim with bottles of all sizes and colours. I run my finger along some of them, carefully reading the labels. These ones are all shampoos; from Rose Petal to Coconut Cream. I pick out a Tropical Mango, held in a tall, thin container with a rounded lid. I unscrew the lid and pour out a helping of orange gel.

Rubbing it in my hands, I create a rich, creamy lather, with which I apply generously to my thick, drooping curls. Well, I might as well use as much as I can; after all, this is my last night of sanity. Maybe even my last night ever.

I shake off that thought. I don't want to think about my potential death. At least not now.

About fifteen minutes later, with my hair smelling of a tropical forest and my skin shimmering with glittered body lotion, I'm dressed in a nightgown and lying on my bed. Except it isn't my bed, is it? It's just another rental, just like every other luxury I've had here. And I'll be paying it back with my life.

Stop it, Inva. Stop thinking about death.

But you know it's going to happen.

Yes, but I don't want to think about it.

You'll have to soon.

"Ugh, just leave me alone!" I yell, bolting upright and flinging a cushion across the room.

I stare at the cushion, tossed in a corner, reeling from my mini explosion. I run my hands through my damp hair and breath deeply.

I can't do this right now. I can't sit alone, where thoughts of death are my only company. I just can't deal with my self at the moment. I have to get away from myself.

Jumping off the end of the bed, I quickly walk next door.

My hand hesitates by the door, but the sneaking of my thoughts hurriedly changes my mind and I knock firmly on the door.

I wait for an answer.

"Come in" A whispering voice replies soon after.

My turn the handle and walk in, closing the door quietly behind me.

Fickle is sat in his bed, several cushions propped up against his back. He looks at me with wide eyes, his face blank and emotionless.

"Um, sorry for disturbing you..." I apologise. "I was just... I needed someone to talk to"

He doesn't say anything at first, as if he's asking himself whether or not to let me stay. I stand, feeling kind of awkward, until he finally speaks.

"I can listen"

I give him a half smiles and perch myself on the edge of the bed. His eyes follow me all the while, taking in my every movement. It's sort of creepy, but he is only twelve and I'm sixteen, so maybe it's the age difference that makes him seem so... odd around me. It would seem rude to walk away now, so I'll have to carry on, despite his strange looks.

"Um, well, thanks for letting me stay for a while" I begin, feeling a little awkward.

He nods.

"I, erm, just wanted to talk to someone. I thought that it might relax me before I go to sleep"

"I can't sleep either" Fickle says quietly.

"Are you nervous, then?" I ask.

He bites his bottom lip. "Cheshire told me not to be scared... but I am"

"Is Cheshire you're brother?"

He shakes his head. "Don't have a brother. Cheshire is my friend"

"Oh, I see. Did Cheshire tell you not to be scared when he came to say goodbye?"

Another shake of his little head. "No. He told me today"

I frown. How could he speak to someone from home today? He must be confused.

Unless... Oh, that's it. I think I get it now; Cheshire is his imaginary friend.

"What are you scared of, Fickle?" I ask softly.

His lip quivers as he murmurs. "Blood and dying"

I nod. Well they'll definitely have that in the arena. No need for special additions.

There's a few moments of silence, then Fickle looks to me.

"What are you scared of?"

I don't like to talk about my fears, well, I generally don't like to talk about myself. Not to other people. But Fickle isn't 'other people'; he's just a quite little twelve year old who's scared of dying. I don't often find myself feeling sympathy for anyone, but now, I feel everything. I think it's just his shy nature and the fact that his only friend is imaginary that creates a tiny soft spot for the little boy. And, so, I find myself telling him.

"Darkness"

Horacio Francis, District 10 POV

I sit on the edge of my bed, twiddling my thumbs. I'm not really sure what I'm meant to be doing now. We've eaten dinner, spoke a little about strategies, and then nothing. My mentor and escort just disappeared; made some excuse about checking on something and went. They said they'd be back. But that was two hours ago.

So I've been sitting around in the apartment doing pretty much nothing. Rhea went off to her room about an hour ago, so it looks like it's just me.

As usual.

I guess you could say I'm a bit of a loner. A nobody. A dork. Just someone to push around. To beat up in the alleyway. To make crude jokes about. To have a laugh at. At. Not with. Never with. I have no friends. Never have. Never will. No-one to laugh with, talk to, share secrets with. Not that I have any to share. My life isn't interesting enough to have secrets. It's not even interesting enough to be called a life.

I drop my head into my hands.

"Ok, Horacio, get a grip" I mumble to myself. "Get up and stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're going to die soon anyway, so there's no point in wasting what remains"

I take a deep breath and stand up.

But now I'm standing, I don't know what to do. There's nothing I can do. No maths textbooks, Sudokus, cross-words, decanting puzzles. How I long for some complicated algebra or stars to chart. Just something challenging to keep myself busy and away from thoughts of loneliness and death.

"Right, well there's only one option left" I say out loud. "I'll have to go and speak to Rhea. She's the only other person here besides myself"

I nod confidently. Yes, that's what I'm going to do. Let's not live the rest of my life as a loner. I'm going to socialise.

Walking lightly on my feet, in case she's fallen asleep early, I make my way to Rhea's room. Pausing outside her door, I knock quietly three times. And wait.

There's no reply, but I can hear the soft sound of quiet murmurs and the occasional sniff.

"Um, Rhea? Are you in there?" I ask, knocking again on the solid door.

"Oh, sorry. Yes, come in" A slightly shaky voice answers.

In fact, it sounds like she's crying. Or has been crying. So I slowly turn the doorknob and poke my head round the door.

I can see Rhea, sitting on the floor, clutching something tightly in her hands. Her face is pink and her eyes seem somewhat bloodshot. She looks up and sees my head peeping round.

"It's fine, you can come in" She says.

"Oh, ok then" I reply, stepping into the room. "If you're sure"

She nods and I turn to close the door behind me. Once closed, I turn back and walk over to her.

She shuffles to make a small space for me to sit and I take it, sliding down to the floor to join her.

"What's wrong?" I ask. "You've been crying"

"Me? Crying? Of course not, I just have hay fever" She says, wiping one of her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Oh, poor you" I say. "I thought the pollen count was low here; there aren't many plants... It must be a bad reaction to the very few plants here. They're foreign to your body"

Rhea looks at me, frowning slightly. "Horacio, it was sarcasm"

"Oh"

Ok, I'm feeling ever so slightly stupid now. No, not stupid, that's the incorrect word. Let's see, I'm feeling ever so slightly insensate. Thoughtless. Lack of common sense. Yes, I may be highly skilled and knowledgeable in educational subjects, but I'm a little slow on the topics of sarcasm. I rarely notice when it is used, which often leaves me feeling sociably awkward...

Rhea sighs. "Look, I am crying, ok?"

The edge in her voice makes it seem as if she doesn't often cry and even rarer, admits it.

"Is it because of the Games?" I ask. "Are you scared?"

She shakes her head, her jaw tight. "Nah, I'm past that"

I look at her, feeling slightly confused. "Sarcasm?"

"No, not this time" She gives a little laugh. "Nope, I'm past that too"

"Really?"

"No"

We sit in silence for a while, both just staring out into...well, nothing really. Just staring. And it's quite nice and peaceful really. I guess I've never done anything like this before. My brain always wants to do something, always buzzing for an activity. A maths or science activity. Naturally. But, sitting and doing nothing is quite nice for a change.

"Hey, what's that in your hand?" I ask, curious.

Rhea looks down to her closed fist, then slowly opens it. "It's a friendship bracelet, my brother made it for me"

She holds the thin piece of woven jewellery so I can see. It's not much, quite small really, but I can tell that it means a lot to her.

"How old is he, your brother?" I ask.

"Same age" She replies, closing her fist again. "We're twins"

I nod. "I have an older brother, but we don't really get on. We're too different. He's all into sports and the great outdoors, and I'm into maths and much prefer to stay indoors"

"Hey, have you brought anything from home?"

I look bashfully to the ground. "Um... yeah"

"What is it?"

I reach into my back pocket and pull it out. "...A protractor..."

Rhea giggles a little. "A protractor? Why would you bring that?"

I shrug. "Well, you never know when you're going to need to measure an angle"

She looks at me, shaking her head slowly. "Horacio Francis, you are officially the weirdest boy I have ever met"

I smile, accepting it as a compliment. "The feeling is mutual, Rhea Blakemore"

Victoria Buchegger, District 5 POV

"Then I just swung my sword around, completely effortlessly, and off came three heads at once" Raymond boasts, demonstrating with his cutlery. "You should have seen their faces; they were so impressed"

"I bet they were" I mumble into my glass.

Raymond gives me a sidewards glance, then turns back to his story. The story, might I add, that he has told at least fifty billion times.

"So, of course, I couldn't finish it right there, I had to carry on" He waffles on. "So I took another sword and started darting it here and there, bits of dummy flying everywhere..."

I take a large gulp of my drink. It's bitter. A little too bitter for such a large gulp, so it catches my throat as I swallow, causing me to cough sharply.

Raymond, my mentor and escort all turn their heads, staring at me as I choke. Not one of them offers any help.

I grab the jug of water with one hand, the other clasped across my mouth, and I pour some into an empty glass. I then guzzle the water down, desperate to stop spluttering. It's really off-putting when everyone just watches you choke to death. Ok, not to death...

"Finished yet?" Raymond asks sarcastically, obviously eager to continue with his story.

I give one last cough. "I think so"

"Good" He says, then takes a sip of blue beverage and starts off again. "Anyways, so I'm standing there with two swords, both jammed into dummies and I start to wonder..."

I roll my eyes and go back to my soup.

The brownish, steaming liquid stares back at me. The chunks of vegetables and meat float around, and all of a sudden, they seem to look like chopped up bits of a dummy. Of a person. A head, a shoulder, a torso. All bobbing up and down in a pool of... blood.

I push the bowl to the side.

"Got a problem with the soup?" My mentor asks, frowning.

"Oh, erm, I'm just not a fan of soup" I lie, picking up my glass and carefully sipping at the strong beverage.

I sit quietly, casually drinking, while the others finish their soup. The main course comes soon after; roast chicken stuffed with some fancy stuffing, with mini potato things and seasonal veg. I'm feeling a little more hungry now that the soup has gone.

"Mmm, good chicken" Raymond says, slicing into the breast with ease and shoving a heapful of meat into his mouth.

I still haven't said a word since my incident, so I just nod and continue to eat my meal, in smaller cuts so that I don't choke again. The chicken is very good, tender and juicy. I decide to take each mouthful slowly to savour it all. Because I don't know when I'll eat well next.

"I've never had chicken quite like this back at home" Raymond says, half through chewing. "We were never as fortunate to afford luxuries like stuffed meat, but I suppose I'll be able to afford anything when I get back"

A potato lodges in my throat, but I manage to swallow it before I start coughing again.

"What?" I say. "What do you mean 'when I get back'?"

"You know, when I win this thing and go home" He shrugs.

I slam my cutlery down on the table.

"And who thinks you're gonna win?"

"I do. Besides, I have a way better chance of winning than you. I got a ten in training, remember" He says patronisingly. "And what did you get? Oh, that's right, you got a seven"

That's it. This guy's ego is bigger than the whole of Panem. And he's really starting to get on my nerves.

I stand up vigorously, causing the chair to topple over behind me. Ignoring it, I look to Raymond.

"You know what? I'd rather get a one than be you" I spit at him. "I know I'd be much prouder- and happier"

Saying this, I turn sharply and walk away from the table. There's not a sound behind me, I guess everyone is so shocked at my outburst.

My bedroom isn't far from the dining area, so I reach it fairly quickly. And just because I'm feeling all hot inside, I turn around.

"I hope you choke on your chicken!" I yell back, then storm into my room and slam the door behind me.

My breaths are hot and fast paced as I lean back on the door, my heart thumping. I squeeze my eyelids tight, cursing myself. Sometimes I can easily get so wound up that I just feel like exploding, and more often I do end up exploding, rather than just sitting and letting it boil me up inside. And I did try to keep calm at the dining table, I really did, but it was just Raymond's whole attitude; with the boasting and the exaggerating and the whole 'I'm going to be a Career'. I mean, seriously? Who in their right mind would want Raymond in their alliance? I know I wouldn't.

And thankfully, so so thankfully, Raymond doesn't want to be my ally. Even though we're District partners, I'd rather step off my plate early than be stuck with him... I'd probably end up killing him in his sleep. He's that irritating. Anyways, I have my own alliance. Why would I need him when I have someone I get along with? Yeah, me and the girl from Three, Inva, sort of became friends in training. We were both at the same stations for most of it, so we just shrugged and became allies. Honestly, she's not that bad. A little quiet sometimes, but I'm not really bothered. She got an eight in training, better than me, so she has value.

I've cooled down a little now. No more blood throbbing in my temples, so that's a good sign.

I prize my back off the door and walk over to my bed. It's all laid out neatly; the duvet just overlapping the bottom of the velvet cushions. I sit down, creating a huge dip in the duvet and messing up the whole perfect look. Not that I really care; it's going to get thrown about everywhere anyway. I know that I'll have a nightmare tonight. How could I not? I'm going into the frickin' Hunger Games tomorrow!

I stay silent for a few minutes. The distant sound of cutlery scrapping across plates and teeth clanking against glasses coming from the dining area. I'm not going back there. It'll be too awkward and I'll most probably end up flinging a knife or something at Raymond. Or 'Ray-Ray' he likes to pretend is his nickname. Pfft, you can't give yourself a nickname. That's just sad.

"Stop thinking about that jerk" I order myself, then stand up from the bed and change into my nightwear.

I look down at my nightgown. It's quite plain looking really; a straight silk dress in a white colour, with 'District 5' embroidered in the top, just below my shoulder. My guess is that the boys' version is the same but in pants and a tshirt. Hm, I wonder if it's always been like this. A constant reminder of who you're representing, even when you're sleeping.

I wonder if Alex wore them.

I reckon if he did they'd be pretty small. He was only twelve then, and quite small for his age too. So was I. We were both the smallest in our class. Me with my long red bunches and him with his floppy brown hair. We were a right pair. A matching pair.

Well, until he was reaped. And killed.

I remember that day so vividly in my mind. I was sat in front of the screen, eyes glued to it. Waiting anxiously as the countdown ticked ever so slowly. My eyes desperately scanning for Alex and then seeing him, his face twisted with fear and his hands trembling my his side. And when the clock timed to zero he just froze. Panicked. He was so small, so unprepared and weak that within the first five minutes, he was killed. Gone. His head clean off with a sword.

And I cried and cried. For days, months, years, all I could see was that image of his body collapsing in two heaps. And I still see it now.

A tear trickles down my face and I hastily wipe it.

"No, no" I tell myself. "That was Alex, not you. He was only twelve, you're seventeen. It won't happen again. Not like that"

But my words don't mean anything. They can't change the past. I just hope they'll stop it from repeating.

Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV

"Are you sure you can be in here?" Elodie asks, concerned.

I close the door gently, quietly, behind me. "I'm sure they won't mind"

"But they said to go and get some sleep" She says.

"And?" I shrug. "They're hardly gonna come and yell at us or anything. We're just talking; it's not like we're doing...anything..."

Elodie pulls a face. "Ew, Zephyr. You're my brother, that's gross"

I laugh. "As if I would even think about that"

Her eyes look away, her head turned slightly from me and she mutters, but just loud enough for me to hear her say.

"I bet you would with that girl from Eleven"

I sigh and walk over to her.

"Luna's just a friend, that's all" I assure her.

Elodie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, of course. Because friends don't stand around obviously flirting with each other..."

"We were not flirting"

"Spare me the excuses, Zeph. I saw the way she looked at you, with her pretty little face and high pitched giggle"

"It isn't a high pitched giggle, she sometimes snorts" I point out.

"Ugh! That's my point!" She exclaims, walking away.

I don't bother following her. "What is your problem with her?"

Elodie gives a brief sigh and sits on the edge of her bed, looking down at her laced fingers.

"It's not her exactly" She says. "I just don't want you getting too close to anyone else"

Then, in quieter words she says. "I don't want you to leave me"

"Oh, Elodie" I sigh, walking over and sitting beside her.

She leans her body into mine and rests her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her closely.

I hold her for a minute, letting her cuddle up to me. I can feel her small breaths on my chest, the heat seeping through my tshirt. She feels so small and venerable, just curling up to me like I'm her protector. Well, I guess I am her protector. I kinda always have been. In a way. Like when we were younger, I was always the loud and bubbly one, while Elodie was shy and quiet. As we got older, she would occasionally get teased about her shyness and I was always straight there, sorting it out; fighting her battles for her. That's how it always was. Still is. She relies on me; I know it. That's why I volunteered, I suppose. To protect her.

"Zephyr?" Elodie mumbles into my tshirt.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared"

Something wet touches my skin. I straighten up and Elodie lifts her head, leaving behind a small damp patch on my tshirt. Right where her face was.

"Hey, don't cry" I say softly, wiping a tear from her pink cheek.

She sniffs. "I can't help it. I'm petrified"

"So am I" I admit. "I'm completely terrified"

She wipes her eyes. "You're supposed to make me feel better"

I give a small smile. "I can't lie, can I?"

She shrugs.

"But I can tell you something" I drop to a low whisper. "There's one thing greater than fear"

"What?" She says, then adds sarcastically. "Love?"

I shake my head. "Nope. Belief"

"I doubt God is going to send us a ticket out of here" She mumbles.

"Maybe not" I say. "But you need to believe in yourself. In me. And we'll be fine, ok?"

She seems sceptical, but nods anyway.

"Come on, get in bed. You need to get some sleep" I tell her.

She nods, pulls back the duvet and slides into bed. The duvet is pulled right up under her chin, so just her head is visible. I adjust her cushion under her head and bend my head down, kissing her forehead lightly.

"Goodnight, little sis" I whisper to her.

She frowns. "We're the same age"

"Oh, right. Sometimes I forget that. Anyways, don't keep yourself up thinking, ok?"

She nods.

"Ok then. Goodnight" I say, standing up.

I flick the switch of the lamp, plummeting the room in almost complete darkness. Just the light from the outside rooms peeps in from under the door. Carefully, I make my way over to the door and creak it open, leaving just a small space for me to squeeze through. I shuffle half my body out, but then pause. Looking over to Elodie, who's eyes watch me from her bed, I whisper.

"Tomorrow's still a day away"

I then pull the rest of my body through and close the door, leaving Elodie curled up in her bed like a small child.

Leaning back on the door, close my eyes tightly and think.

Did I do the right thing by volunteering? Or am I just an idiot with wishful thinking?

* * *

**A/N- PHEW. That's the six Capitol chapters done. Finished. Boom. That was hard. But I hope you liked them!**

**Ok, time for my usual questions on the characters:  
What are your views on Inva, do you think she has much of a chance and will she escape the Bloodbath? Horacio, do you feel for him and honestly, how far do you reckon he'll get? (his one might surprise you...) So, do you think Victoria will ever stop clutching onto her memories of Alex during the Games and how about her sudden outburst? And last of all, Zephyr. Is the sweet, caring brother an idiot with wishful thinking?**

**Let me know it all! I want to know every little thought that popped into your mind while reading this (with boundaries, guys ;D )**

**And next, the moments we have all been waiting for...THE BLOODBATH IS UP NEXT CHILDREN! (ahhh so exciteddddd)**

**So... WHO WILL SURVIVE IT AND WHO WILL SUCCUMB TO THEIR DEATHS? (any ideas?)**

**Also, I really want to know WHO ARE YOUR FAVOURITE TRIBUTES, WHO WILL YOU BE BACKING?**

**Thanks to all who submitted and thanks to my loyal readers and reviewers!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	13. Bloodbath

**A/N- EEEEEKKK! It's finally here, the BLOODBATH! Are you excited? Because yes, people die. Not loads. But some. I'm sorry if it's later than you'd hoped for, but it's here now. I'm sorry, it was a hard one to write...and a longer chapter too... Anyways, enough with this and I now present unto you, the bloodbath! xxx**

* * *

Phosphorus Vox, District 7 POV

"Phosphorus, could you please stand still for a moment? I can't fasten your jacket" Felicity, my mentor, asks.

"Sorry" I mumble, trying to keep as still as possible.

But it's no use. I'm shaking all over. Every inch of my body feels like jelly. Wobbly, unstable and uncontrollable. My legs quiver.

"Whoa, easy there" Felicity says, catching me just before I collapse to the ground. "You almost went then"

"Mm, thanks" I thank her meekly, my hands clutching tightly to her arms.

She looks at me with sympathy and rests her hand on my forehead. Her palm feels cold against the burning skin of my head, yet it's not soothing. Not at all. In fact, it makes me feel light-headed...

"Phosphorus!"

Fluttering my eyelids open, I wake to see Felicity's face right in mine, her clear blue eyes staring and filled deep with worry. I rub the back of my skull, which seems to have hit the floor pretty hard. I bet I'll have a whopping great bruise there...

I struggle to my feet, helped a little by Felicity. She props me up on a small chair and rushes to grab me a cup of water. I gulp it down.

"Um, how long was I out?" I ask Felicity, hoping that I haven't missed the countdown to enter the arena. No, wait, I hope I have missed it. Then I won't have to enter and I can go back home. Hopefully. Doubt it.

"Oh, not long" She replies, checking her watch. "Only about a minute or so"

My shoulders slump. "Oh"

"Why? Hoping you missed the start?"

"Maybe"

She sighs. "Unfortunately for you, it hasn't started yet"

"How long now?"

"One minute and five seconds"

My eyes drop to the floor and sure enough, five seconds later, a voice booms through the speakers of the small room.

"One minute 'till take off"

Take off? We're hardly going on a rocket to the moon... Unless that's what the arena's theme is...

"Hey, is the arena designed like space?" I ask, as Felicity comes over to finish fastening my jacket.

She laughs as she zips it up. "Nah, it says that every year. Always confusing tributes. But, it is a Quell, so they could very well use a space theme"

"I hope not" I say. "The Sun's a great ball of fire..."

She gives a small, kinda failed, laugh and fastens the button at the collar of the jacket, sealing it just below my chin. Practically my whole body is covered up in waterproofs, except my face. Not to mention that I'm wearing about three layers underneath the over-jacket. I'm all wrapped up as if to embark on a journey across snowy wastelands. Maybe the arena _is _a snowy wasteland. Then again, it could be the complete opposite and the layers are just to put us off track... God, the Capitol can be so annoying sometimes.

"Ten seconds"

"Hurry, Phosphorus, you gotta be on that plate now" Felicity ushers me over to a small tube and shoves me inside.

The door slides shut almost immediately behind me and I turn to look at Felicity in horror. I'm trapped. And I think I'm going to suffocate in here. Maybe I'll pass out and some Career will just laugh and finish me off. And I'll be dead before I can wake up again. I'll never see the light of day again. When was the last time I saw daylight?

I'm panting now, not out of breath, but from sheer panic. I'm not ready for this. It's come too quickly. I'm not prepared. I don't know what to do. Suddenly I feel so small that I could curl up under a stone and cry. Cry and cry and cry. And wish for this not to be happening.

The floor beneath me moves.

I'm rising up and up. I look down and see Felicity waving at me, mouthing good luck to me. I try to smile back, but my teeth are clamped onto my lips, disabling my ability to talk.

The tube seems to go on forever; either that or each second seems like a minute. Probably the second.

At last a ray of light pours into the tube and I look to see myself rising from a dust covered floor. I stop ascending and look around at my surroundings; bleak grey skies, dirty paths and ruined buildings in the distance. By the looks of it, I'm standing in the centre of an abandoned village. A rather creepy looking one too.

My eyes flick back to the tributes around me. We're all standing in a circle, a few metres apart and as usual, the golden cornucopia stands in the middle of our ring, stocked with boxes, bags and weapons. Many other, presumably less valuable, supplies are scattered away from the shining horn, a few not that far from me. A spot a small backpack, which looks quite lightweight and the perfect size for what I'm going to need it for. If I'm planning to hide up high, I'm going to need something like that. As the countdown is running low, I quickly guess how long it will take me to reach the pack. I reckon I could probably reach it before the Careers take the weapons and start killing everyone.

I glance to the timer. Three seconds left.

My left foot edges back a little and I bend into a better starting position. Ready to make the sprint of my life.

"Two"

I clench my fists.

"One"

The gong sounds and I leap off my plate, heading straight to the backpack. From my peripheral vision, I can see all the Careers sprinting for the Cornucopia. A few other tributes are doing the same, but most seem to have the same plan as me. Grab a bag and run.

The boy who stood two people down from me, the nerdy one from Ten, seems to have spotted my bag. I gulp, but I know I'll beat him. He's quite slow and his lanky limbs are flailing around wildly as he 'runs'. I feel slightly at ease; he'll never reach it. He's no threat at all, I can easily grab the bag and run. Simples.

A few more strides and the bag is at my feet. I bend down to pick it up, my hands trembling as I grab the straps and swing it on one shoulder. As I stand back up, I notice the short girl from Two standing a few metres from me. Her eyes are fixed on me and her belt is loaded with knives. I find myself glued to the spot. My feet won't move. The girl grins, plucking a knife from her belt and levelling it up in her hand. She winks before flicking her wrist and sending the knife flying my way. I know I can't run from it's flying speed, my feet still refuse to budge. The knife soars towards me. I'm going to die. The first person to die.

I duck.

The blade cuts just above my head, missing it by centimetres.

I hear a small yelp behind me, followed by a canon fire. I turn and see the boy from Ten lying on the floor, a knife sticking from his neck. His face is pale and his eyes are still open. I shudder and quickly scuttle to my feet, knowing that if I don't move now, I'll be next.

The girl, the first murderer, still stands. Her face is smug, she'll be well pleased with herself, having the first kill. I bet she'll brag about it later to the rest of that blood thirsty pack.

Her sharp blue eyes fix back on me. She's still smiling as she removes another knife from her belt and holds it out. She wastes no time in flicking her wrist and releasing the deadly weapon.

I hold my breath and watch as the knife glides towards my head, I glance to my feet, urging them to move.

"Run, Phosphorus, run" I tell myself, panicking.

The knife is getting closer. I'm running out of time.

"Run!" My head screams at my body.

Just at the last moment, my feet pick up from the floor and I start to breathe as I begin to run.

I hear the girl cursing as the knife hits the floor. I know she'll be reaching for another knife, determined to kill me, so I keep running.

Once I'm out of throwing distance, I begin to think. The girl hasn't bothered following me, I suppose she's got plenty of other lives to end. I grab the bag, feeling around for a weapon of some sort. Of course, there's nothing there.

I bite my lip, I know I need something. I can't leave the Cornucopia without a weapon. I could just grab anything, but I have a slight problem. I can't use hardly anything. Swords are too heavy, spears too long. Axes, again, are too heavy and I'm not great at archery. I'm average with a knife, but by the looks of it, that girl has taken the whole lot. My only hope is a crossbow. I can use one of them, I practised at home. Where most boys were using axes, I was much too small, so they stuck me with a crossbow. And personally, I'm not too bad with it.

So now, finding a crossbow is my best chance of surviving.

Moving to a fast jog rather than a sprint, I scan the floor. Nothing. Of course, all the weapons will be in the Cornucopia. Including my crossbow.

I stop, checking that I'm fairly safe. There's no one really round this side of the Cornucopia. I bite my fingernail, thinking.

A few seconds later, I hear the sound of footsteps. They're louder, so that means someone is close. I turn my head to see a girl running towards me. I recognise her as the girl from Four, the mermaid in the parade, but she doesn't seem to be in with the Career pack. Thank god.

She shows no interest in killing me as she speeds past. But I spot something in her hand.

A crossbow.

Half of me says _'Follow her, get the crossbow' _and the other says _'Leave it, play safe'. _

I agree with the first half.

Brandon Thiessen, District 11 POV

The countdown seems long at first. Each second lingering on, holding on.

I'm standing on my metal plate, seemingly surrounded by a dark, gloomy village. I've got to say, it wasn't what I was expecting. But it could be worse. There have been years where the arena has been a vast wasteland, with little shelter and water. Those Games were always quick. People died at a much faster rate, as there was nowhere to hide, but it's freezing, starving or dehydrating that killed most. Even if it's a Quell, I count myself lucky with this arena. At the moment.

I can see a few tributes craning their necks, standing on their toes, trying to see further. Lucky for me, I'm much taller than most of them. All of them even. That Kelvin from Two is tall, but I stand about a head higher. Ha.

People often call me a giant. Or 'Big Bran'. I'm forever receiving strange looks from small kids and some of them even ask if I have a beanstalk in my garden. People judge me as a fierce monster most of the time, often avoiding me in the street. But those who know me laugh about it. They know that I'm not like that. But the Capitol don't need to know that, do they? I can play the tough giant for a while.

The countdown has reach ten now.

And the seconds seem fast. Racing each other. Daring to reach zero. To announce the start of a bloody battle.

"Three"

I start to think, I don't have a plan. Not really. I've been too busy practising my fighting techniques, forgetting about my Cornucopia strategy. Maybe I'll just grab a bag and run? Nah, I need a good weapon. I bet the best swords will be right in the middle, but I can make it, can't I? I'm quite a fast runner, ish. Besides, I can take on a few people that get in my way. I think.

"Two"

I shake out my arms, trying to loosen up. Some of the other tributes seem to be doing the same, stretching out. But the vast majority are standing, feet together, with terrified looks on their faces. Yeah, I'm feeling a little nervous, but I'm looking fairly controlled. Quite calm. Collected.

"One"

The sound of the gong rings loud and my reaction is quick. I'm off the plate in less than a second, heading straight for the Cornucopia. My sprint is a little slower than I'd hoped, but I reach the golden horn without colliding with anyone.

Once inside the Cornucopia, I have to leap over several boxes, presumably filled with supplies. Most of the weapons are out on display, but further in. Jogging, I dodge the stray bags that decorate the floor and search for a sword. I know the Careers will be here any second now; most of them were on the other side of the Cornucopia, behind the entrance, unlike me who had a direct sprint in. The sound of running steps gets louder; they're almost here. Slightly worrying, I scan around and spot a pile of heavy looking boxes. Leaping over some more piles of stuff, I duck down behind them. Luckily there are quite a few, so my large body is hidden from sight. I slow my breath and listen.

There's talking from the entrance; the Careers I'm guessing. I can hear Bryn, the short girl from Two snapping to someone.

"Get off, you know the knives are mine"

"Fine, take them. I'm more of a axe girl anyway" Another girl says.

"Right, I'm gonna go kill some dweebs out there" Bryn says, leaving.

I hold my breath and hold still, peeping from a gap between the boxes. I watch as the other girl, Brooklyn, roots through some weapons before pulling out two axes and a bow.

"Shit, where's the arrows?" She mumbles, followed by some more rooting.

As she scrambles for some arrows, the boy from Two, Kelvin, walks in.

"Bryn's out there fast. I was on the other side, so I had to go further" He says.

"Uh huh, whatever" Brooklyn says passively. "You seen any arrows?"

"Yeah, I passed a sheaf on my way, they were just outside the entrance"

"Good, I'm gonna go get them. You looking for anything?"

"A sword"

I curse under my breath. Of course he'll want the biggest sword. I've seen him in training with one; he's pretty good. And he scored an eleven, probably using on then.

I bite my bottom lip and watch Kelvin wander around, picking at the weapons. He finds a smaller sword, picks it up, then discards it.

"Not big enough" He grunts.

Kelvin walks around some more, his direction now facing me. My heart starts to thump louder, I'm sure he'll find me. If not, then that Brooklyn will. Or another Career. There's still that boy from Four and the one from One still to appear.

Kelvin edges closer, frowning. I take a cautious step back and my foot taps on something. I turn and look to the floor. It's a weapon rack. And just a short distance away, hangs the perfect sword.

It's just within my reach, I'm sure. With my long arms, I can easily grab it. Then, as Kelvin's head is turned...

"Aha!"

My arm has just reached out as Kelvin spots the sword. I make a grab at the weapon, but my hand misses and I crash to my knees.

"What the-?" Kelvin stares at me.

Hurrying, I stumble to my feet, facing him. I'm a head taller than him, but that doesn't seem to bother the Career. His eyes look at me, then to the sword. I know he wants it as much as I do. It's just a matter of who will strike for it first.

"Go on, take it" Kelvin dares.

"You want it" I reply, keeping my voice from shaking with nerves.

"Good observation" He smirks, taking a step towards me.

I take a step back, crashing my back into the weapon rack. I didn't realise that it was that close.

"Clumsy" Kelvin says, stepping closer again.

I gulp.

"Any closer and I'll grab the sword and kill you" I threaten weakly.

"Oh, I'm so scared" He says sarcastically, then takes a small step closer. "Oops"

Keeping to my threat, I make a grab for the sword again, but Kelvin's right on my move. His hand strikes out, gripping my wrist and pulling my arm towards him. I hear my bone crunch and grit my teeth. Kelvin's grip is strong, but I'm stronger. With one hefty tug, my arm is free.

Kelvin's eyes narrow and he glares at me, a slight smirk on his blood thirsty lips. I widen my stance, ready for a fight.

"Oh, you're going down" Kelvin laughs, lunging out.

His hands grab my shoulders and I kick my foot out. His balance is knocked and he stumbles, tripping over a loose rope. As he falls, he tightens his grip on me and I collapse down with him. We land on the floor hard, thudding into a few boxes.

I take a gulp of air.

The grab on my shoulders is strong, but I feel no pain. It's all muscle, from working in the fields.

Lifting my head, I assess my situation. Kelvin is on his back and I'm over the top of him. His hands still clutch to my skin, but my hands are still free. Thinking quickly, while Kelvin is slightly dazed, I take his neck in my hands.

I feel my fingers squeezing, clamped on his thick neck.

Kelvin tries to move, but I've got him stuck. I'm on top. Literally. He has nowhere to go, nothing to use in defence. Nothing to do but stare with eyes wide in horror as I attempt to strangle him.

He tries to speak, but his words come out as strangled cries of empty threats. I know he can't hurt me now, and he knows that too.

As the colour starts to drain from his face, my mind starts to waver. My brain is realising what I'm doing. I realise what I'm doing.

I'm killing someone.

My grip loosens ever so slightly. My throat is closing too. My head, spinning, sending messages.

My conscience is talking to me, like an angel and a devil, sitting on my shoulders. Telling me what to do. What's right and what's wrong.

_Kill him, Bran. It's self defence._

_No, it's murder. You're bigger than that._

_But it's the Hunger Games, you have to kill to survive._

_You don't have to yet. Just let him go and escape._

I squeeze my eyes shut. I can't think what to do.

What would my sisters be telling me to do now? Are they screaming at the TV? What are they saying? Could I let them watch their older brother kill someone?

No.

I stop squeezing my fingers. Colour starts to return to Kelvin's face.

I know myself, I can't kill anyone. Not now. Maybe I'd have to later in the Games, but I'm not ready for it yet. I could let him go and make a run for it. I can get away and still have a clear conscience. Can't I?

"You shouldn't have let go, Brandon" I hear Kelvin croak.

I look up, confused.

And there is Brooklyn, standing a short distance from me, wielding an axe. Pointed in my direction.

"No, you shouldn't have"

Brooklyn Virgona, District One POV

I push my arm forwards and release my grip. The axe spins through the air as if it weighs nothing more than a mockingjay's feather. My eyes follow it's curve downwards, watching it intensely as it hits it's target. Right in the centre of the skull. A canon fires almost instantly, confirming my win.

I look as the boy's eyes widen, then drop closed as his body slumps to the floor. Deep crimson blood trickles out his head, forming a rounded pool next to his frozen face. The axe slips from it's position and lies next to the fallen body, awaiting it's master.

"Nice shot, eh?" I grin, stepping over the body to retrieve my weapon.

I wipe away the smudge of blood and look down to Kelvin. He sits up, his face flushed.

"Why the pink face, Kelvin? You a little embarrassed that you needed help from a girl?" I sneer.

"No" He denies, quickly getting to his feet. "I was perfectly fine before you came"

I laugh. "Didn't look like that to me"

"Yeah, well, you didn't know what I was doing" He replies. "I was just about to get him"

I raise my eyebrows. "Of course. So that's why he was strangling you then?"

Kelvin scowls, turning away from me.

"Right, I'm gonna have this sword then" He says, grabbing the much wanted sword from the rack.

He turns back to me. "Let's go kill us some tributes"

"Sure" I agree, walking out with him. Then, just because I can, I add "I'll kill more"

Before Kelvin can protest, I've broken into a jog and I start to look for victims.

My second one comes up quickly.

It's the boy from Twelve, Kay, on his way from the Cornucopia. He hasn't been inside, but has grabbed a mace and a backpack from the edge. He seems to have stayed away from the likes of Bryn and Tal, but he won't slip from me.

I start to jog forwards, carefully getting myself into a suitable angle. The bag and mace are quite heavy, therefore slowing him down a little and making things even easier for me.

I take my bow in hand and reach for an arrow. I used an axe last time, so I think it's right for a change. Besides, I can get a better hit from this distance with an arrow.

I load the bow and pull back the string, angling the point. I close one eye, getting a better focus, before letting go. I send the arrow zipping through the air at top speed and watch as it pierces the boy's neck. He has no time to cry out in pain and just falls to the floor in a crumpled heap. I hang my bow over my shoulder and smile as the canon fires.

"Pretty good" The sound of Bryn's voice comes from nearby.

I swing my head around and see her strolling over, slotting a knife into her filled belt.

"It was nothing" I say modestly. "My second kill"

Bryn nods. "Cool. I took the first kill, that geek from Ten. Hit, but didn't kill about five others"

"Not too bad" I say. "How are the others doing?"

"Um, Tal's found his trident, so he seems happy. Ren says he's sorting through supplies and doesn't look like he'll be killing anyone. And Kelvin disappeared for a while but now he's down on the south side, looking for anyone who needs finishing off" She tells me.

"And Ray?"

"Oh, I dunno. Last time I saw him, he was in a tussle with Jacob over this scimitar"

I roll my eyes. "Ugh, typical. But on the positive, at least there's more for us to kill"

"Indeed" She agrees. "Speaking of which, I've just spotted my next prey"

Bryn pulls out two knives and is off sprinting after some helpless teen.

I take this as a quick break chance, stretching out my limbs. My shoulder, from which hangs my bow and arrows, feels a little achy. I'm just rubbing it firmly with my hand to release the pain when Jacob runs up to me, sweat dripping from his reddened face.

"Hey, Brooklyn" He winks, slightly panting.

"Oh, hi Jacob" I say.

His eyes move over to my shoulder. "Injury?"

I shake my head. "Nah, just a little achy"

"Need a massage?" He offers.

"Erm..."

He takes this as a yes, rests his hands on my shoulder and starts to make deep circular motions. Actually, he's quite good...

"Whoa, what are you doing?" I suddenly pull my shoulder from his grasp.

"Giving you a massage..." He says, seeming confused.

"I never said yes" I point out.

"Touché"

"Shut up"

"Ok"

I roll my eyes. I can see why Ray finds him so annoying; I thought it was just the rivalry, but seriously, that guy gets on my nerves. Not to mention he has a 'thing' for me. Actually, I can't really blame him...

A sudden squeal snaps me to attention. Both mine and Jacob's head turn to face a girl scrambling away from the mercy of Tal.

"Haha, who is it?" I ask Jacob.

"Heidi, the girl from Twelve" He replies.

"Oh right, the one who had a meltdown at her reaping?"

"Yup. The pretty one"

I dart my eyes at him.

He clears his throat. "Of course, you're much prettier. Hotter anyway"

I chuckle. "Don't you forget it"

We stand, watching, as Tal throws his trident at the girl. It misses, barely. There's more squealing as Heidi makes a break and sprints from a cursing Tal, his face twisted with annoyance. I'm quite surprised really; I expected another canon fire. But it seems that Heidi is quite speedy and while Tal retrieves his trident, she's already out of range.

"Hey, hey, she's running in our direction" Jacob says, sounding excited.

I look over. "So she is"

A smug smile forms on my lips as I take an axe in hand. I guess I'll be adding to my kill count.

Heidi, who seems oblivious to Jacob and I, is cutting straight across the field, probably heading to her allies. She looks relieved to have escaped Tal, but little does she know that her joy will be short lived...

I raise my arm and wait patiently until she's just in my reach... and...

"Duh nuh, duh nuh" A voice imitating dramatic music sounds in my right ear. "Duh nuh, dun nuh"

I look over to Jacob through the corner of my eye.

"Duh nuh, duh nuh" He says again, getting faster and louder.

I try blocking it out, focusing with my axe. But Jacob has distracted me and Heidi is getting out of range. Even if I throw the axe now, it will miss her. Certainly.

I scowl and drop the axe, grabbing up an abandoned knife from the floor instead. It's been used, clear from the small smear of blood on the otherwise spotless blade, but hasn't managed to kill anyone. It must have just cut someone's arm or something. Shame.

Thinking quickly, I work out that a knife could cut through the air quicker and will probably just hit Heidi, hopefully killing her. The cruel smile returns to my face as I grip the knife and prepare to throw it. It's not my first choice in weapon, but it will do. There is no way I'll let her escape from both Tal and myself.

"Duh nuh, duh nuh" Jacob starts again, figuring out my idea. "Duh nuh, duh nuh"

I take a deep breath, in an attempt to keep myself cool.

"Duh nuh, duh nuh"

I bite my lip.

"Duh nuh, duh-"

"_OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, SHUT UP!"_ I scream in rage, losing my grip on sanity and throwing a punch at his stomach.

He stops instantly, most probably stunned from my hard punch. And it feels great to have silence again.

A canon fires.

I frown, wondering, who died? I glance over; Heidi's still alive. Hm.. must be someone else. But as I look around, the rest of my pack are all looking around too. Confused.

Then, I look to my feet.

And lying in a pool of blood is Jacob. My knife plunged into his stomach.

Heidi Fitzherbit, District Twelve POV

In a split second, it went from a deafening silence, to an absolute chaos.

I'm running around like a headless chicken, trying to avoid bumping into the twenty three other tributes, all of which are running in different directions. Everywhere I look, there's people; most grabbing something and making a quick escape, while others go to the Cornucopia. By others, I mean Careers.

I've never seen people run like it before. They were like bullets, off as soon as the gong rang and heading straight for the golden construction. They'll be getting the best weapons, I'm sure. Then they'll be out. Looking for people to kill.

And that time will be round about...now.

The short girl from Two emerges from the Cornucopia, smiling, her belt full with knives of all shapes and sizes. I don't know how she keeps them there; don't they cut her legs?

Right behind her is the boy from Four, Tal. By the looks of it, he has no weapons. That won't last. I think he's looking for one in particular, my guess is a spear or trident. District Four's industry is fishing, so I bet he'll be aiming to spear his opponents like fish. Or trident them. If you can 'trident' someone...

I decide to keep my eye on them as I search for something useful. If I turn my back, they'll easily sneak up on me. This way I can-

_Boom._

I jump, startled at the sound of the first canon. I never expected it to be _that _loud. Or expected someone to die that soon. I wonder who it was? Hopefully not Rhea, Luna or Harper; they're my allies. Also, Kay; he's my district partner. Or Guthrie; he's fit.

I turn my head and see Bryn, the girl with the knives, nodding and looking pleased with herself. She must have had the first kill. Eek. She doesn't dilly-dally.

So neither will I. The shock of the first death focuses my mind more. Knowing how easy it is to die puts my body into gear. I speed up, looking back to see who died, but as I face forwards again, I crash into someone.

I scream.

The person I collided with, Annabeth from Eight, looks at me with wide eyes. I stare back at her, half expecting her to pull out a knife and stab me. She doesn't, thankfully.

"Sorry" I mumble, then we back up and part ways, both a little dazed.

Another canon fires and the big Career from Two strolls out from the Cornucopia, grinning as he holds a rather large and sharp looking sword. His face looks flushed, so my guess is that he just took that kill. He stands for a moment, scanning the surroundings, then takes off in the direction away from me, chasing after someone. I can't make out who, but I certainly wouldn't switch positions with them.

I begin to run again, aimlessly, desperately searching for my allies. If they're even still alive.

I trip over a few times, but manage to get back to my feet before someone notices. A few times I've almost been caught, but I tend to pick up my speed and find a hidden supply of energy. I know I'll run out soon, just hopefully not before I find my team mates.

I skid to a halt. A short distance away, the wannabe Career from Five is looming over a small boy, a huge curved sword brandished in his hand. The boy has fallen, stuck in an impossible position on his back. His face has whitened and his eyes are so wide that they could pop out any moment.

I swallow hard as the boy from Five, who's name has escaped me, raises the sword and plunges it towards the small boy. The boy below screams and cowers behind his hands, as if to protect his face. I stand in horror as the sword is pushed into his tiny body, which then shudders before falling still. Deathly still.

I bite my lip, forcing myself not to cry. I'm in the Hunger Games, of course people are going to die. I just never imagined it to be that horrible. That gruesome and cruel. That boy looked no more than twelve; so innocent and frightened. I rack my brains to remember his name. Fickle.

"Rest in peace, Fickle" I whisper as his canon fires.

My saddened mood is suddenly switched to a panic, as the murderous boy from Five spots me watching. He glares evilly, then stomps towards me, his sword swinging from his hand. My body starts to shake and I squeal, before turning and launching myself into the quickest sprint I've ever done.

The wind rushes past my face, scratching at my cheeks and pulling at my hair. The floor feels hard beneath the soles of my boots and stones snag at the stained leather.

I slam my back into the solid wall of the Cornucopia, hoping to stay hidden behind the corner. I gasp for breath, my fists clenched with fear as I wait for the boy to find me. Raymond. That's his name, it finally comes to me.

I wait for what seems like a lifetime, until at last I see Raymond giving up on his search and finding a new target. I sigh, relieved and take a few cautious steps forwards, edging into sight.

I'm sure someone almost notices me, so I back up again, my back pressed against the Cornucopia. I step sidewards this time, sliding my back along. If I could get around the back of the Cornucopia, then I could easily slip off without being noticed. It seems like all the Careers are around the front.

I prize myself off the wall, looking around for a safe path.

"Ugh, typical. But on the positive, at least there's more for us to kill" My heart skips a beat.

There's someone there. And by the sounds of it, it's Brooklyn, the fierce Career from One.

I take a step back.

My back bumps into something.

Screaming, I turn around.

My eyes are staring into the back of a boy. A boy who is holding a trident firmly in his right hand.

He turns around, slowly, revealing a cunning smile on his tanned face.

"Greetings" He says slyly.

I draw a sharp breath and run. And run and run.

I have no sense of direction, I just run. I can hear his heavy breath as he tries to keep up with me, the trident slowing him down.

I hear him grunt and the trident skims past my arm. I scream and propel my legs faster. Harder.

I turn my head as I'm running, and see the boy pick up his trident, his face furious. But I doubt he'll come after me.

The world is blurring before my eyes, I can't see where I'm going. My legs ache from the strain, my palms damp with sweat. My breaths are getting shorter, more rushed. But I keep running. Not looking back; well, I couldn't see anything anyway, everything is just-

I crash to the ground.

My hands reach out, lessening my fall. I feel my left wrist crack from my weight. My vision wavers for a minute, then after blinking several times, it becomes clear again. I rub my wrist, wincing from the darts of sharp pain.

What did I trip over?

Looking over my shoulder, I expect to see a large stone or a bag, but neither is the culprit. My eyes widen in horror as my obstacle becomes clear.

A corpse.

"Ahhhh!" I scream, shuffling back.

The body of what used to be my district partner lies in a crumpled heap. An arrow pierces the skin of his neck, dried blood smeared all around. His eyes are still open, the pupils dilated and highlighted with a thin ring of faded green. His lips are slightly parted.

I gag.

Tears sprout from my eyes, pouring down my face like a waterfall. My hands tremble and my bottom lip quivers.

"Oh...my...god..." Are the only meek words that slip from my mouth.

I sit, frozen to the spot as I stare at his dead body. I just can't believe he's dead. Gone.

A part of me expects him to burst into fits of laughter. Of course, he doesn't.

A tear drips off my chin, landing lightly on my hand.

I close my eyes.

A sudden jerk opens them again and I find the floor moving away from me. My feet are planted on the floor and my body is pushed away from the corpse.

Confused I turn my head to look behind me. Guthrie, the boy I met from Eight, is pushing me.

"What? What are you doing?" I stammer.

"Getting you out of here" He replies, coming beside me and pulling my arm.

I look at him in confusion, but obey and start to break into a run.

"Run as fast as you can" He orders me. "Rhea is waiting for you between the two houses straight ahead"

Saying that, he gives me one last shove and sprints off in another direction.

I continue to run as he said and soon reach the houses. Rhea and Luna are standing there, beckoning me with waving hands. I skid into the alleyway, bumping into Rhea. She grabs my shoulders and shakes me firmly.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?!" She demands.

"Sorry...I just...um, it was...Kay..." I stumble over my words.

Luna taps Rhea's shoulder and she lets go of me.

"Sorry, I was just worried about you" She says.

"It's ok"

Luna smiles. "She was about to go back in after you, but luckily Guthrie got there first"

"Why would he do that?" I ask.

They both shrug.

"Right, we'd better get out of here" Rhea says, swinging a bag over her shoulder.

I nod.

We walk a few metres, then a thought suddenly occurs to me.

"Hey, where's Harper?" I ask.

Their heads slowly turn, grim looks on their faces.

Rhea bites her lip and looks to the floor.

"Um, Heidi... She didn't make it"

* * *

**A/N- *gasp* That was fairly dramatic! Well it was for me anyway. **

**In case you didn't quite catch that, the following people died: Fickle Fletch (3), Jacob Finney (6), Harper Sanders (6), Horacio Francis (10), Brandon Thiessen (11) and Kay Grinestone (12). I am sooo sorry if one of them was your characters, it's not that I didn't like them! I did honestly love them all, but people had to die. Remember, only one of them can live in the end, so eventually people will all die. Sorry for it being so soon for these six. Apologies if you liked them lots :(**

**Right, so did you expect any of this? Did anyone shock you in particular? What are your thoughts on the people that died and other people that escaped? Did anyone do something that surprised you? **

**Let me know everything! I really wanna know what you thought about our first deaths!**

**Thanks to all who submitted, especially for the ones that died today :( But keep reading anyways!**

**Next chapter will be a little different... but you'll just have to wait and see...**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	14. Outsiders: Helpless

**A/N- Sorry for the late update...again :( This was going so well up until halfway through, when my brain decided to give me the gift of Writers' Block. Hurrah. Thankfully, I got over it and finished the second half yesterday and this morning! Yay! So without futher delay, I present to you, the first chapter of 'Outsiders'... Hope you like it x**

* * *

Lissie, (Brandon's sister) POV

I stare at the blank sheet of tattered paper. The curling corners from age and the rough texture of quality. The piece has been dyed a faded yellow, again from age.

The pen in my hand feels warm, the friction is low from the small beads of sweat on my palm. I haven't written a single word yet. I want to, but I can't. Nothing sounds right today. Every time I try to forge some letters, some words, I stop myself. The nib of the pen never quite manages to touch the paper.

I have written letters before; lots of them in fact. They're all rolled up, tied with string, and hidden in my bottom drawer, behind my socks. No-one's found them yet, it's quite a good hiding place. Even Mom doesn't go in there, after the grasshopper incident. She said she nearly fainted with the shock of a huge green bug leaping out at her. I wish I could have seen it.

So now, my clean clothes are always left on my bed for me to put away. Mom doesn't even come near the small chest of drawers, hence the reason why I hide things in there.

I click the end of the pen and the point slides back in. Sighing, I put the pen back in the washed out jar I use as a pencil pot and return the paper to the top of the pile.

The paper and pen aren't actually mine; they're my Dad's. _Were _my Dad's. He came home with the set one day and announced that he as going to start writing letters. We laughed at him at first, but he did actually start writing. To a 'pen pal' he told us, but soon later, when I was about seven, he left one day. Just wasn't there when I got home from school. All of his stuff went too. Except his writing set. Brandon told me that he went to stay with his pen pal. I know now that his pen pal was a woman.

"Ouch" I trap my finger in the drawer.

The tip of it is red now and it hurts a little. I suck on it to release the pain, while uncovering the letters with my other hand. They're all still there, untouched and intact. I smile to myself with the relief that my secret is still a secret and push the socks back over the letters. Once they're sealed again, I close the drawer, careful to avoid getting another finger trapped.

"Lissie! The Games are about to begin!" Someone shouts from the lounge.

"Coming!" I call back, pulling my finger from my mouth and standing up.

I walk through to the lounge, where Mom is sitting on the faded sofa with Robyn and Louisa on either side of her rigid body. She looks nervous and worried, but seems to be acting calm to my younger sisters. I'm two years older than Robyn and there's two years between her and Louisa, but I still feel much older than that. Maybe it's because I'm now eligible to be reaped. Or maybe it's because I'm now the eldest sibling in the house.

"Sit by me, Lissie" Louisa says, shuffling to make space on the end.

I smile to her and take the seat. She looks up at me with her large, dark brown eyes.

"Brandon is going to be ok, isn't he?" She asks in a small voice.

I take her hand in mine and give it a soft squeeze. "Yeah, he's going to be fine"

I try to believe myself, but deep down I'm feeling a little doubt in my words. I do believe in him and all that, but there is always that little feeling. That little voice in your head that's telling you that he might die. When the Games have barely started.

A sudden flash from the projection on the wall snaps our attention. Our eyes all flick to the once blank screen. The Game's host, Morgana Volptura, crackles into view. She's dressed in a tight fitting black and gold pin-striped suit and her make up is hideous. Thick black eyeliner, gold eye shadow up to her arched eyebrows and bright crimson lipstick. She looks like something from a nightmare. Only real.

Sitting next to her is the Head Gamemaker, Opus Trimarti. His face is set in a deep frown and he's also dressed in a threatening suit, dark blue and silver.

"So, Opus, how excited are you feeling right now?" Morgana asks.

"Quite excited, Morgana. This is my third Games as Head Gamemaker and it definitely is the most exciting" He replies in a dark voice.

"This is one of the biggest Quells, the five hundredth!" She exclaims. "Will you be giving us any hints as to what the arena will be like?"

He shakes his head. "I'm afraid you'll all have to wait. My team and I worked extremely hard on planning this arena and we want everyone to experience the surprise together"

"I'm sure you do, Opus" She smiles, then turns to the camera. "Well, Panem, I believe it is now time to start the countdown for the Five Hundredth Hunger Games, the Twentieth Quarter Quell!"

Louisa's hand grips mine tightly as the camera switches to show the arena. The Cornucopia stands in the centre of twenty four holes and it's exactly the same as every year. Huge, golden and filled with supplies and weapons. There are, as usual, some supplies and weapons dotted on the ground around the Cornucopia.

The camera zooms out, giving us a view of the arena. The first thing I notice is the bleakness. Pretty much the whole arena is a dull grey.

Louisa makes a small gasp as more of the arena is revealed.

It's a huge abundance of ruined houses. A deserted village, surrounded by a thick, darkened forest. I shudder; it looks horrible.

The camera flicks back to the Cornucopia in the middle of the village. A countdown fades into view, showing sixty seconds. Then, the tributes arrive. Rising from the ground like sprouting weeds.

I look around, searching for my brother. I spot him, directly opposite to the entrance of the Cornucopia. Two girls are either side of him, a few metres apart. I think I recognise them from the parade, but no names come to mind.

The camera takes it in turns, focusing into each of the tributes' faces. Brandon is one of the last to be shown, his face is set looking onwards. He seems somewhat less nervous than most others, but I can sense the fear in his eyes.

"He looks like a giant" Louisa says timidly.

We laugh a little; trust Louisa to lighten the mood.

The numbers count down slowly, each time they change my heart thumps. The tributes get lower into a starting position, ready to flee for their lives. Or flee to take others'.

As the numbers tick down to naught, I clutch onto Louisa's hand, causing her to squeak.

"Sorry Louisa" I apologise, but she's not really listening. No-one is. We're all watching as the gong rings and the Games begin.

At first, the camera doesn't show much of Brandon. In fact, it doesn't show him at all. He seems to have just... disappeared.

"Where is he?" Robyn asks the question that's playing on all of our minds.

"Erm, he's probably just behind the Cornucopia, or has already got away" I say, not really believing it.

You can only get away that fast if you don't grab anything. Brandon wouldn't be that stupid to leave without anything, he's much to clever. Nah, he's probably fine.

A sudden canon boom goes off. We all jump and our faces turn whiter than the cleanest sheet.

"Was that..." Louisa trails off.

The body of a dead boy comes on screen, confirming that it wasn't Brandon. It was the boy from Ten, Horacio Francis. He was killed by a knife, thrown by one of the Careers. I bite my lip, keeping myself from puking.

They don't waste much time in switching back to the main field, showing people sprinting around, whilst being chased by well armed Careers.

I gasp as the camera moves to a view from inside the Cornucopia. Brandon is in there. And he's not alone. Kelvin, the big Career from Two, is with him and they don't seem to be having a casual chat either. In fact, they're both locked in a wrestle, down on the floor. Brandon is on top of Kelvin and it looks like he's got him stuck.

We all watch intensively as Brandon takes hold of Kelvin's neck in his huge hands.

"Is he going to strangle him?" Louisa asks.

"I think so" Robyn replies. "He'd better do it soon, before anyone else comes in"

"I hate to say this, but I agree with you Robyn. If he, you know, does it quickly, then he'll have a better chance of escaping" Mom says.

"I don't think I can watch this" Robyn says, shielding her eyes.

Louisa copies her, covering her on eyes. But I keep on watching.

I watch the strain in Brandon's eyes as he watches his fingers squeeze the life out of Kelvin. His dark eyebrows are knotted in a deep frown. Something is telling me that he'll stop. Chicken out. This isn't like Brandon. He can't kill a person.

And I'm right. He can't.

No-one else is watching. Both Louisa and Robyn are cowering behind their hands and Mom is trying to put them at ease. I'm the only one watching as Brandon releases his victim before looking up to see an axe soaring through the air.

I scream, though my throat is coarse, as the axe clashes with his skull and the canon fires.

Mickela, (Kay's girlfriend) POV

I stare at the greyish liquid.

"Kay never really liked tea" I say, watching the bleak beverage slosh around in the chipped mug. "He said it was a girls' drink"

"And he always said he had better things to do than sit around and drink" His brother, Malen, adds.

I look over to Malen. He's sitting on the ragged piece of fabric, which is meant to be a rug, also holding a mug of weak tea. He sits with his left knee bent and his elbow propped up on it, the mug held in his other hand. Before, I've never thought of them alike, but now, all I can see is Kay. Every time I look at his mop of mud brown hair, I see Kay's ruffled style. The way he sits, with his leg bouncing up and down, I see Kay's eagerness. Even when I look at his pale blue eyes, they fade into Kay's light green ones. I can't help but feel like my boyfriend is sitting in the room with me.

"Hey, don't like the tea?" Malen asks, looking at my full cup.

I look back at the sluggish drink. "It wouldn't feel right"

"Yeah, I know what you mean" He sighs. "I keep feeling like we should be doing something, not just sitting around drinking tea"

My eyes move to the door. "I keep expecting him to burst through the door and call us old ladies"

Malen lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds like Kay"

We fall back into a silence, our fingers tapping on the side of our mugs, creating an echo that bounces around the room. The Games haven't started yet; the projection on the wall is just a grey blur.

The silence to me is horrible. I've always hated it. That and isolation. That's why me and Kay seem to get on so well. There's never a dull or quiet moment when you're with Kay; he's so bubbly and loud. I used to be the quiet one. When all the girls at school would flit around the boys and giggle confidently to them, I'd be the shy one at the back. The sheep. The follower. I still don't know how Kay noticed me. Maybe it's because I was so quiet and he saw it as a challenge to bring me out of my shell. I wouldn't have let him if I wasn't so head-over-heels in love with him...

"Mickela?" Malen's worried voice cuts my thoughts short. "Are you crying?"

I notice then that my eyes are damp and I hastily wipe them away with the back of my hand.

"Um..maybe" I sniffle.

"Aww, come here" He reaches out kindly.

I nod and slide off the sofa to sit next to him on the tattered rug. He looks at me with sympathy and holds out his large arms. Grateful, I lean my head on his chest and weep as he hugs me tightly. His body temperature radiates towards my body and I snuggle in closer, comforted by the heat.

Kay used to do this in the Winter. When it got so cold that the frost bit at my fingers and toes and not even patched up gloves would make any difference. When my one and only coat decided to be too small that it only went up to my elbows and hung awkwardly at my waist. When it was too cold to do nothing but huddle up together like penguins...

"You ok now?" Malen asks, pulling me out of his embrace.

I look up to his gentle face through the sheet of water in my eyes and just stare. He does look so much like Kay...

My hand reaches out and I run my fingers through his thick hair. His open eyes look into mine. I blink and see Kay smiling back at me, lost in a gaze. Without hesitating, I close my eyes and lean my head in. Parting my lips, I kiss his softly and Kay's scent washes through me once more. I push in, deepening the kiss. I wanted him so much and he came. He really came. And now I'm kissing him again, feeling his lips against mine and-

Kay pulls away sharply.

My eyelids dart open. And Kay is no longer sitting there; Malen has taken his place. His cheeks are flushed a deep red and he seems surprised.

My mouth gapes open and no words come out.

"It's ok, Mickela. You were upset; me too. I know you meant nothing of it, you were just missing Kay" Malen rushes over his words, trying to explain what I just did.

But he doesn't need to explain it. I already know what happened. I kissed my boyfriend's brother. My boyfriend who is hundreds of miles away in the Hunger Games and his brother, who was kind enough to...

I stumble to my feet, turning away from Malen. I hear him talking to me, but I don't stay to listen. I'm staggering to the door in such a hurry that I knock over my mug of tea and it falls to the ground, smashing and releasing the grey liquid it once held. I waste no time in checking it, I just have to get out of this house. And as far away as I can.

I crash through the door and trip as I hurry down the stairs at the front of the house. My jacket snags at the wooden banister and I tug at it harshly. It comes off with a small tear and I'm free to run again.

Sprinting with no idea of direction, I frantically wipe at the growing pool of tears in my eyes. My temples are pulsating; throbbing at the second. My throat is dry, parched from lack of moisture. Now I wish I had drank the tea...

My path is disturbed by a huge wall, which I skid right into. The force winds me and I stagger back in shock. The wall seems to move, like it's rotating towards me. It is. And it turns out that the wall is actually just a tall man.

"Whoa, you ok there?" He asks, his fluffy moustache moves with his top lip.

"Um..." I gulp, feeling a little dazed. "Yeah, I'm fine"

He frowns, but lets me be. I walk slowly onwards, entering the District's main square. A huge screen has been set up, as every year, showing the Hunger Games. Not everyone has their own projection and a lot of folk just like to watch it together. Mainly, the families of the tributes' stay in the comfort of their own homes, but some years they like to come out in the comfort of their neighbours. Personally, I would turn into a hermit crab and stay behind closed doors.

"I'm so sorry, dear" A woman, who's name escapes me, places a hand on my shoulder.

I look at her in confusion. "You haven't done anything..."

A small group of women have joined her, huddling around me like penguins in the thick of winter. All their faces are sympathetic, some full with empathy it seems.

"I know, it's none of our faults. These things happen pretty much every year; I went through the same thing when I was your age"

"I'm sure a lot of people have..."

"Indeed. There are more people than you'd think. It's a thing that affects us all, every single one of us" She smiles, knowingly. "He was such a nice boy though, wasn't he? It often happens to the good 'uns"

"I'm sorry...what?" I ask, so puzzled at her random words. Why is she saying all this? I just bumped into someone...

"Your boyfriend, Kay. He just passed away in the Games"

Damien Thicket, (District 6's mentor) POV

The glass makes a loud clink as it hits the table. My hand reaches out and grabs the bottle of whiskey; I shakily unscrew the lid and fill half the glass. Raising it to my mouth, I empty the contents of liquid fire down my throat. It burns slightly as it slips down, but I don't care. I'm used to it and I like the feeling.

I'm pouring another half glass when the door opens. Lydia Temple, District Three's mentor, stands in the doorway, her hand resting on her pointed hip.

"Damien" She hisses, looking at my almost empty whiskey bottle in disgust. "If you would join us; the Games are about to launch"

I shake my head slowly. "Nah, I'm ok thanks. Fill me in on the details later"

She glares at me, her thin eyebrows arched high. "I'm afraid you'll have to see it yourself"

"Fine" I grunt, heaving myself up to my feet.

The room seems to spin around me and I have to grab the side of the table to steady myself. All the while, Lydia frowns.

With a swift turn of her head, she parades out of the room, her pin pointed heels cutting along the floor. Staggering after her, I make a last grab for my bottle and smile as the familiar smoothness of the glass meets with the roughness of my palms. I'm not an alcoholic, I just have the occasional drink when I'm feeling rough. Ok, the occasional bottle.

Lydia strolls ahead, wiggling her bony excuse for a figure and pointing her chin pretty much vertical to the ceiling. She acts like she's some goddess or something. Yeah, she's a Victor and all that, but so are the rest of us here. She didn't win a Quell or anything, just a bog standard Games and she only just scraped through it. In my opinion, she only won by chance. At least all of us other mentors deserved to win.

I've never liked Lydia. I had won about fifteen years before her and I remember her Games. She was fifteen and one of those tributes that just hide throughout the whole Games and scrounge off passing others. She never got any sponsors, ha. I did. And by the time it got to the final few, she looked like death anyway. It was just luck that her remaining opponents died of dehydration before she did. Pfft.

"You walk so slowly" Lydia complains, her foot tapping impatiently on the solid floor as she stands outside the room.

I deliberately slow my pace, annoying her and earning a deeper frown on her bony face. She scowls at me, before opening the door and disappearing inside.

I laugh coarsely; it was always funny to wind her up.

Walking normally again, I head to the door and give it a hard shove, my body stumbling into the room. Everyone looks over to me as I regain my balance and grin at my entrance. The District Four mentor, the youngest today at only sixteen, laughs at my stupidity. I flash a toothy grin in return.

"Ugh, please Damien. Could you stop being so ridiculous and just sit down" Lydia orders sharply, turning her attention to the boy, Dylan. "And stop being so immature. I don't know what you find so entertaining"

"Whatever, _Mom_" Dylan jokes, rolling his eyes.

"I am twenty three! Certainly way too young to be your Mother" Lydia corrects, seemingly offended.

I laugh, earning a sharp glare from Lydia. The boy does have a point; she does look much older than her twenty three years. Her hair is always scraped back into some kind of bun, which makes her face look stretched as if she's had plastic surgery. And I swear she's getting bags under her eyes. Not to mention her stick-like figure. She looks like a granny in a mask.

At this point, I decide I quite like this young boy, so I go over and take the empty seat next to him. He doesn't seem bothered, just raises his hand to say hi. I nod and slouch down in the seat, taking a swig from my whiskey bottle.

Lydia sees, but pretends not to notice and turns her attention to the other nine mentors.

"Oh if you don't mind me saying, but I do think your boy isn't particularly built for these Games" She says snidely to the District 10 mentor.

He shrugs back. "Yeah, but he has something that most Careers don't have: brains"

"Pur-lease, as if his times tables are going to help him" She laughs.

"At least I don't have a useless twelve year old who'll probably break down and cry for his mommy as soon as the gong goes" He strikes back.

Lydia seems shocked at his point and keeps her mouth shut.

A few glances are passed around the room. No-one likes Lydia, or her mouth, and we're all glad to have shut her up. But I can't resist just taking this given opportunity...

"Guys, don't you all agree that it would be great to have a District Three Victor this year?" I ask openly.

A few nods of agreement, then Dylan starts to laugh.

"Oh yeah, then Lydia wouldn't be a mentor anymore!"

"Would you two stop being so rude and just shut up for a while; the Games are about to begin" Lydia snaps.

I raise my eyebrows, take another swig from my bottle and slouch lower in my chair. It creaks slightly under my weight.

The screen mounted on the wall lights up and I sleep through the commentary until Dylan pokes me to tell me that the Games have started.

I watch through weary eyes as the bloodbath continues. The boy with 'brains' from Ten is the first to die and Lydia smiles as his mentor looks sluggish in his seat.

The bloodbath has always been the most brutal part of the Games. You can see some right gruesome deaths; arrows in the neck, axes through the head, blood everywhere. All that usual jazz. Sometimes it can get so humanly gross, seeing the blood dye the ground in little streams, and I have to take a few extra long sips of whiskey to keep myself from gagging. Unknown to most, I'm actually quite a squeamish person. I wasn't always, it was just after a certain incident in my Games that put me off the colour red. But I won't go into detail now.

I yawn as a few more tributes die, including one of my tributes. Harriet? Hattie? Halle? Something like that. The name escapes my memory. Oh well, it's not that I'm bothered. I hardly knew the girl; I never do. What's the point in getting to know someone when they're just gonna die anyway? Not worth the waste in time, I think.

An hour or so drones on, more guts spilled on the battlefield. And blah, blah, blah. I'm just about to drop off to sleep again when an interesting occurrence grabs my attention. It's my boy tribute, Jamie? He's having a conversation with one of the Career girls; trying his luck more like. I can't believe he's actually doing what he said he would. Stupid boy.

I have to blink a few times to check I'm seeing right. It looks like he's giving her a massage... Idiot. She could easily just turn around and stab him while his hands are occupied. Jeez, he's so clueless.

I roll my eyes as my thoughts come true and the girl does stab him. She took her time, I've got to say if it were me, he'd be dead in a second flat.

"Ooh, that's both of yours gone now, Damien" Lydia can't help but point out to me.

"So?" I shrug.

"Shame. They could have had a chance if they had a better mentor" She digs. "Why weren't you there for them, Damien? That boy looked quite promising"

I take another swig from my bottle and slam it down on the table. It's empty.

"You wanna know why, Lydia?" I ask, slurring.

"Humour me"

"Cuz he was too like my younger self. That's why" I say.

And he was. I used to be the good-looking boy, who got all the girls...well who thought he could get all the girls. I had that swagger in my step, the cheeky flash in my eye. I thought people loved me and when I won the Games, I found out I was wrong. None of my friends wanted to talk to me anymore, decent girls avoided me like a deadly plague and I was left lonely. So why would I encourage and help Jacob to turn out like me?

Jacob. Oh yeah, that's his name.

Sam, (Jacob's best friend) POV

I place the final card on top of the pyramid, cautiously so it doesn't topple over. I have a steady hand, so it's fairly easy to get it balanced. I used to play jenga with Jacob when we were kids; obviously, I always won. Jacob was always too impatient and would knock down the whole tower, whereas I was more gentle and strategic.

Would impatience be a useful thing in the arena? Probably not.

I hear the click of the handle being turned in the door, but choose not to turn around. It creaks quietly as it opens, sending a small gust of wind into the room that unsteadies my pyramid. It comes crashing down to the table.

"Sam?" Mandy's worried voice comes from somewhere behind me. "Are you ok?"

I shrug, still facing away and hear her dainty footsteps as she walks to me.

Her arms wrap around my neck and her head rests on my shoulder from behind. I look to my left and see her looking awkwardly at my collapse pyramid.

"Oh. Sorry about your tower" She says.

"It was a pyramid" I correct.

"Right, so you do speak then" She says, standing up straight and coming round where I can see her.

I look at her and she looks at me. Her auburn hair is braided to the side and she's dressed in a plain white frock. Her pale green eyes are open wide, searching mine.

"Sam, I'm really worried about you" She says.

"No need. I'm not the one in the Hunger Games" I huff.

"Yeah, but you're the one who's locked themselves in the darkness of their own house; refuses to talk to anyone for the past week; eats the bare minimum to stay alive and makes pyramids out of playing cards all day long" She says, exasperated. "Sam, it's not healthy"

"You sound like my Mom" I state.

Mandy sighs and takes the seat opposite. "But we both care about you, Sam. I hate seeing you like this"

"You can leave if it's bothering you" I grumble.

"I am not leaving, you stubborn bastard" She snaps, grabbing my hands firmly. "And I will stay here until you agree to come out to the main square"

"You'll be waiting a long time. There is no way I'm going _there_"

"And why not?"

"Because everyone will be there. All those dudes that hated Jacob; they'll all be there and I can't listen to them talk about him behind his back"

"But they won't be like that!" Mandy protests. "I've talked to everyone and they all said that they will be there for you"

"I don't want any sympathy!" I raise my voice, pulling my hands from her grasp.

She looks at me, shocked. Saying nothing, she stands up from her chair and walks back to the door. Her hand takes hold of the handle.

"Mandy..." I say her name desperately.

She turns her head round to look at me. Her face looks hurt, like she doesn't know who I am anymore.

"Mandy, I'm sorry" I apologise.

She turns the handle.

"Please, Mandy. I'm really truly sorry" I say.

She pulls the door open.

"Mandy, wait"

And she steps through the doorway, but leaves the door ajar.

"I love you" I call out.

Just as I think she's gone, a head peeps from behind the solid piece of wood. Mandy's eyes look damp, watery.

"And I love you too" She whispers back.

"Please don't leave me. I have no one else" I say.

She steps back into the room.

"Then come with me; face everyone else" She says, looking around the dim room. "You can't hide forever"

Taking a deep breath, I get up to my feet. I haven't stood in a while, so my legs feel a little jelly-like. Nevertheless, I walk towards her.

"Ok. I'll come"

We walk down to the town centre, hand in hand. Mandy insisted on combing my overgrown hair before we came; trust a girl. I also took a quick wash as I actually hadn't bathed in a week and honestly, I stank.

I try to walk slower as we near the square. Mandy notices and pulls my arm.

"No way. You are not giving up now" She tells me sternly. "We will show ourselves and we will stay until we know Jacob has got past the bloodbath"

"If he gets past the bloodbath" I mumble.

Mandy hears and looks at me disappointedly. "_When _he gets past. Or don't you believe he will?"

"Sorry, _when_"

She smiles and pushes my speed. I think the Games have already started.

As we reach the square, the huge screen is the first thing I notice. It's always there, every year. I guess it's so that people don't have an excuse for not watching the Games. Normally, it's more of a gathering for teens. They all go there to watch together, to support their friends. District Six isn't a huge district, so we pretty much know everyone. Anyone that's worth knowing anyway. Everyone knows Jacob, of course. But people only tend to know me because I'm always with Jacob. Otherwise, I'm just a randomer.

We walk past a group of boys, the same age as us, and they all turn to stare.

"Ooh look who it is" One sneers. "It's Jacob's weedy sidekick and his lickle girlfriend"

"Just ignore them" Mandy whispers in my ear.

I try to as we continue to walk.

"Aww he's so brave, bless him; coming out without his master Jacob" Another snickers.

"But he still has to be escorted by his girlfriend"

Mandy's grip on my hand tightens at the mention of 'his girlfriend'. I can tell she's also finding it hard to ignore. I mean, they're practically walking along with us!

"So, Sammy, or whatever your name is. Where have you been lately? No-one has seen you" One boy says, stepping right in front of our path.

I avoid his patronizing gaze, stepping sidewards to avoid him.

He laughs as we follows us. "Locked yourself in your room, did you? Cry for Jacob?"

"That's it. I'm not letting them talk like this about you anymore" Mandy says, gritting her teeth and letting go of my hand.

She storms over to the gang, her face set like stone.

I watch, unable to stop her, because once she lays into someone, there's no stopping her 'till she's finished.

"Right, fat ass" She snarls at the tallest boy. Actually, after hearing it from her mouth, I notice that he does have quite a large ass... "How dare you speak to Sam like that"

"Like what?" He shrugs, sarcasm written all over his smug face.

"You know what" Mandy snaps, lifting herself higher on her toes to reach his ugly face. "Jacob was his best friend and now he might not ever see him again. How would you like it if you felt like you were suddenly left all on your own?"

"I'll never feel like that, I have tons of mates" He says.

"Yeah sure, mates, that's what you call them bunch of morons that just follow you cuz they're scared to get on the wrong side of you" She rolls her eyes. "Well, what if it was your brother, eh? What if the closest person to you in the whole world, who you knew most of your life, who you trusted more than anyone else; what if they were just taken away from you in a split second?"

He looks to the ground, as if he's thinking of a good come-back, or thinking of some sick sarcastic comment to throw back and make himself look 'cool'. But he says nothing.

Mandy smiles, done with her work, and comes back to my side. She laces her fingers through mine.

"I think we're done here. Let's go find some _decent _people to talk to"

I nod and we start to walk off. A sudden cry from across the square steals our attention.

"Oh my god! Jacob!" A girl screams, pointing up at the huge screen.

Several more cries and sobs come from the same area.

"No, Jacob!"

"Please no!"

"Help him!"

"He told me he loved me before he left!"

"No, he said that to _me_!"

"_Me_!"

"No, _me_!"

I look away from the girls and crane my neck to see the screen. I can see what they're all yelling about: Jacob is lying in a pool of blood at the feet of a Career girl, a knife plunged into his stomach.

His stomach that I used to elbow whenever he got on my nerves.

His canon hasn't fired yet, but I can tell that he's beyond help now. His eyes are open, staring wide in horror as the colour drains from his skin. I watch, helpless, as his eyelids flutter closed and his canon sounds.

Over the crying from girls that knew him, I can hear a sick, twisted laugh. I turn sharply on my heels, pull my hand from Mandy's and storm over to the tall boy.

He sees me coming and calls out to me.

"Looks like your a nobody now, Sammy. Poor master Jacob has fallen"

I block out his words, squeezing my hand into a tight fist. I stomp up to him, my eyes flaring with both anger and sadness.

The last thing I remember is throwing a hard punch at his nose and then everything goes blurred as I swing my arms around in a rage, smashing everything in my path.

* * *

**A/N- Yup, so that's the 'twist' I mentioned in the last chapter's AN. Is it what you were expecting? And more importantly, did you like it? I was thinking of doing one of these chapters every so often, so you can get a sort of feel of what it's like for the families/friends of our tributes. I'll do this for every tribute, probably. It may also reveal secrets about certain tributes...**

**Ok, so any thoughts you had about this chapter, please let me know via review. I really love reading them!**

**Next chapter is back into the arena with our dearest surviving tributes! I can't say when it will be done, but hopefully before this time next week, I'll aim to get it done quicker, but no promises!**

**Thanks for reading and keep on REVIEWING!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	15. The Aftermath

**A/N- Oops, ok so this is up a little later than I'd hoped... Sorry. **

**Anyways, thanks for all the nice comments about the twist in the last chapter, I was a little unsure at first :D So, yeah, it will continue throughout the story, in between chapters and stuff. So yup.**

Here's the next chapter!

* * *

Ren Elmwood, District 1 POV

I raise the hammer, feeling the weight of it strain against my weary arms, and bring it down to the nail. It clanks noisily as the metals collide and the nail is pushed further into the dry ground. I lift my hand and wipe my sweating brow, feeling the exhaustion take it's toll on me. It's been a long and tiring day, what with the Bloodbath and all. Since the last canon firing earlier today, Kelvin has nominated himself as the 'boss' and just starting handing out jobs to everyone. And I was given the honour of the tent builder. Yay.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" The stern yell of Kelvin comes from somewhere I can't see.

"I said it was an accident, jeez man" Tal's voice replies, sounding fairly calm for someone on the receiving end of Kelvin's rage. "We can just get more firewood"

"No, _we _can't just get more firewood. _You _can just get more firewood"

"Fine, but someone better come with me; I can't carry wood _and _kill any passing tributes"

"Bryn will go with you"

At the mention of her name, Bryn pipes in. "Oh will I now?"

"Yes, you will. Now get outta here you two" Kelvin orders.

A sigh follows and heavy footsteps trudge towards the gate where the village ends and the forest begins. I go back to my nailing.

My grip on the hammer is loosening, my palms are getting sweaty. I've already put up two tents, this is the third and last. We found them in the Cornucopia, well _I _found them when everyone else was off killing people, therefore I was lumbered with the duty of setting them up. It's fairly simple to figure out, but quite energy-consuming to put up. I bang the hammer into the nail again and the sound clashes in my ears, so much that I don't even hear the person approaching me. As I sit back on my heels, I notice Brooklyn standing next to me.

"Don't let me keep you" She says, her arms folded.

I nod and grip my hammer again. This should only take one more hit before it's stable, so I grimace myself and raise my arm again. Conscious that Brooklyn is there, I bring down the hammer. It misses the nail and my knuckles scrape against the rough metal, drawing stripes of blood that trickle down the back of my hand.

"Smooth" Brooklyn laughs, walking away and leaving me feeling rather embarrassed to say the least.

Not only did I not kill anyone in the Bloodbath, but now I can't even hammer a nail into the ground. So much for being a Career. Yup, smooth Ren, smooth.

Feeling ashamed, I quickly hammer the nail into the ground and finish setting the tent up.

"Ren? You done yet?" Kelvin shouts over.

I stand up, calling from behind the tent. "Yeah, coming round now"

I walk round the side of the tent. Kelvin's sitting on a low, crumbling wall of grey stone. He looks completely relaxed, as if he hasn't lifted a finger. In fact, he probably hasn't. All he's been doing for the past few hours is yell and order people about. I want to say something, but what can I do? I'm just Ren. And he's Kelvin. He'll probably chop my head of or something if I stand up to him.

Brooklyn is sitting opposite him on a fold-up chair, another useful prop I found. She's running her long fingers through her loosely flowing hair and frowning as she stares into the flickering fire.

"Ah, Ren, come sit" Kelvin gestures to another folding chair.

I take it gratefully. "All the tents are up; they should be sturdy enough to last us a while"

"Good, good. Well done Ren" Kelvin nods.

_Well done Ren?_ I'm not his dog or something. But I daren't say anything. Just in case.

"Hmm, there are three tents and six of us" Kelvin states, looking over at the tents.

"Two in each tent?" I suggest, trying to be helpful.

Kelvin nods. "Yeah, we'll have to pair up. I'll go with Ray, you with Tal and Brooklyn with Bryn"

Brooklyn's head snaps up. "With _her_? Why do I have to share with that spiteful cow?"

"She's not that bad, Brook. Besides, you're both the only girls, so it makes more sense"

"Pfft, to you maybe" She huffs, then adds, "It's Brooklyn, by the way, not Brook"

"Right, that's settled then. We'll wait for the others to come back and we'll have a quick meeting" Kelvin says.

"I'm going for a walk" Brooklyn stands up.

"Um, yeah, me too" I say, looking forward to getting a quick break before the 'meeting'.

Brooklyn looks at me. "Not with me you're not"

"I know, I'm going by myself"

"Good" She flicks her hair and trots off into the dimming light.

I turn and walk in the opposite direction.

I'm not really sure where I'll go, just probably around the campsite.

We've built our camp in the centre of the village, in the large empty space where the Cornucopia is. Our main site is a little way from the Cornucopia, standing near the edge of the clearing and within easy reach of the dark houses of the village. It's quite a good spot really, for a Career's alliance. We're equal distance from the rest of the village, it's easy to find, there's a clear path out of the village to the forest and we have hold of a water supply. It's a well, burying deep into the ground and containing pretty decent water. It's clean, so that's a start. All we do is just lower a bucket down with a rope and tadaa, fresh water is at our finger tips. We know there's a small river in the forest, but we think the well is the only supply of water in the village. So being a Career does have it's perks.

I'm walking with my head down, fiddling with my fingers when I bump into someone. It's Ray, carrying a large scimitar. He glares at me.

"Lucky I spotted your wild hair, or you'd be dead meat in a second" He says. "I was all fired up to kill someone"

"Fired up? Why?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Just stuff, really"

"Kelvin?"

"Nah, he's not too bad. It's just Brooklyn"

"What about her?" I ask, suddenly feeling curious.

"Nothing you need to worry your little afro about" He says patronizingly.

I touch my curls. "It's not an afro, actually"

"Looks like one" Ray grins, shoving past me and heading in the direction of the fire.

I scowl at his back as he disappears off. It's not an afro, anyone can see that. It's just a bit wild, that's all. Trust Ray to make fun of it though. He seems to think he's second in command or something, the way he swaggers around acting all rough and tough. He's not even a proper Career, he's from District Five! But Kelvin seems to like him, naturally, and we are one down in the alliance. Not Jacob, he wasn't really part of us anyway, just a wannabe. We did think maybe Layla, Tal's district partner, would join us, but she ran off in the Bloodbath. Not that we really needed her; she's thirteen, but I thought she would have stayed. We could have offered her safety and supplies, but she'd obviously rather be alone. Something tells me that Tal may have something to do with it, but I'm not sure on the facts. I'll have to ask him.

I can hear heavy footsteps coming in my direction. I look around sharp, hoping for a weapon, but they're all back at the main camp. And I left my spears with them. I now realise that I'm unarmed and we may be getting ambushed.

Oops.

I crouch down, attempting to hide behind a tent and listen.

"Ouch, that was my toe, Tal" The sound of Bryn's voice snapping sends relief through me.

They must be back from collecting firewood. I'd forgotten about that.

"Sorry, I can't see with all this wood in my face"

"Don't trip over anything"

"I won't, but you could have at least taken _some _of the load"

"Hey, I'm your bodyguard, remember?"

"Meh"

I emerge from the tent, showing myself.

Bryn gasps, immediately grabbing for a knife, then stops as she sees me.

"Oh my god, Ren. Don't sneak up in the shadows like that; do you want to be killed?"

"Oh, sorry" I say. "Erm, Kelvin's holding a meeting; I think he's waiting for you"

They both nod and walk on, me trailing behind. We head back to the campfire, which has almost dwindled out thanks to the little amount of wood, and Tal sighs with relief as he drops the pile of logs to the ground.

"These enough?" He asks, pushing a few onto the fire. They catch on and the flames grow, the heat intensifying.

"They'll do" Kelvin says. "Now you two, sit down. We have things to discuss"

Bryn and Tal both collapse to the floor, not bothering to find something comfier to sit on. Tal stretches out, his feet near the fire and his elbows supporting his back.

Kelvin clears his throat and looks around at all of us.

"Right, I'll begin with the sleeping arrangements. It's two per tent: Me and Ray, Ren and Tal, Brooklyn and Bryn"

"_What?_" Bryn sits up, her blue eyes flaring. "Why do I have to share with _her?_"

Kelvin sighs. "Because you're both girls and honestly, none of us guys really want to share with either of you"

"Can't I share with Tal or something? I can tolerate him" Bryn says.

This earns a loud wolf whistle from Ray. "Ooh, I wonder why? Thinking you'll be able to get a look at him naked?"

Kelvin and Brooklyn laugh, while Tal blushes and I sit awkwardly. Bryn stands up, pulls a knife and holds it towards Ray.

"No. I do not fancy him, you stupid bastard. I'd just rather not share a tent with the likes of miss Barbie over there"

Ray just laughs in his seat and Bryn scowls, before returning her knife to her belt and sitting back down.

"I don't mind sharing with Brooklyn" He winks over to her.

She pulls a face. "In your dreams, Ray"

At this point, Kelvin butts back in.

"Enough guys. I've already sorted it; you'll just have to put up with each other, ok?"

No-one protests anymore.

Kelvin lets out a long breath. "Good. Now, moving on. At all times, we need someone to guard the supplies and at night, someone to also watch outside our tents. We'll all take shifts. I'll make a timetable later, but for tonight, Ren will go on with Ray. That ok, guys?"

I shrug, trying to seem cool. "Sure, whatever"

"Sorted" Kelvin says, standing up. "Now who's for some food? We have some canned stuff in the supplies"

Kelvin goes to find the food, Brooklyn assisting. Tal and Bryn say something about water and disappear off. It's just me and Ray left.

"So, Ren, you looking forward to night-watch?" He asks.

"Sort of, I won't be able to sleep the first night anyway" I shrug.

"Me neither, I guess" He says, stretching out his arms.

I sit, biting my bottom lip. Hoping that the others will come back with food soon. I know Ray's, like, from District Five and I'm from One, but I can't help but feel a little nervous when I'm around him. He just has this aura that sends shivers down my spine...

"Tonight will give us some proper _bonding _time, eh Ren?" He smirks and I feel a cold rush through my body.

"Erm.."

"I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun getting to know each other"

Uh oh. I am not looking forward to tonight.

Guthrie Zython, District 8 POV

"Do you think we're far enough?" Annabeth calls from over her shoulder.

"Maybe? We've been running for the past, oh I dunno, _four hours_?" I say back, careful not to shout too loud.

Annabeth slows her pace to a steady jog, allowing me to catch up to her. She gives me a sceptical look.

"Well maybe we could have stopped ages ago if you had run a little faster"

I come to a stop and give an annoyed gasp. "_Me? Run faster?_ In case you had forgotten, I'm the one carrying all our supplies!"

Annabeth lets out a sigh. "Wow, you're such a drama queen, Guthrie"

"I am not!"

"Are"

"Not"

I nudge her side with my elbow, unbalancing her as we continue forwards, just walking now. She scowls and shoves me hard in the shoulder. I laugh at her pitying attempt and reply with a swift shove into her body. She stumbles, but reaches her hand out to the wall to catch her fall.

"Right, that's it" She narrows her eyes, steps back and then rams her body into mine.

Her force is quite strong and I find myself crashing into the wall next to me. I drop one of the bags and Annabeth swoops down to pick it up. I stand up straight, rubbing my scraped arm.

"That was uncalled for" I complain.

"You elbowed me first" She points out.

"You called me a drama queen"

"But you are!"

I huff. "Fine then, if I'm a drama queen then I'd better live up to my name. I want to stop and find camp now"

She rolls her eyes. "Ok, ok, we'll rest for the night. It's starting to get dark anyway"

"Yay" I announce as she takes a sharp turn down a dusty alleyway and stops in front of a house.

I say a house, it's more like a ruined cave or something. The once white washed stone has turned a sickly grey, the roof is all patchy and the building itself has half collapsed. But it's the only liveable choice we have at the moment. All the other 'houses' are completely destroyed.

Annabeth prods the tattered wooden door with a cautious finger. It creaks open slowly and Annabeth peeps her head inside.

"It's a bit dusty, but I suppose it'll do for one night. It looks safe enough" She reports, stepping inside.

Pulling the backpack firmly onto my shoulder, I follow her inside.

My instant reaction is to sneeze. Typically. There's just so much dust collected in the corners and the broken beams of the ceiling.

"Bless you"

"Thanks"

I turn and close the door behind, half expecting it to break apart from the hinges. Luckily it doesn't. I walk over to Annabeth, who is pulling a large rolled up carpet from the back of the main room. As she shakes it out, thick clouds of dust and dirt are released into the muggy air, causing me to yet again sneeze.

"Hey, we could use this to sleep on rather than the hard floor" She says, placing it down on the floor.

It's quite small for a carpet, but large enough for us to lie on, if we snuggle up close.

Annabeth straightens the carpet the best she can and beckons me over. I shrug the bags off my shoulder and sit down, glad for the rest.

The texture of the carpet is a little scratchy and old feeling under my legs, but it's an improvement on the cold, stoned floor.

"Should we see what's in the bags?" I suggest, pulling them from behind me.

"Yes, good idea. Hopefully there's some useful stuff in them" Annabeth agrees, taking one of the bags and unzipping the top.

She plunges her hand into the bag, roots around and finally pulls out a bottle. She hastily unscrews the lid and peers inside.

"Empty" She sighs, screwing the lid back on with disappointment.

"Typical" I say. "What else is in there?"

"Erm..." She digs her hand back into the bag.

When her hand resurfaces, she pulls out a sphere shaped item.

"What's that?" I ask.

"It's a ball of string" She replies, shrugging, before placing it next to the empty bottle. "I think there's only one thing left; it's quite a small bag"

"Lucky I picked up a larger one" I grin as she grabs out the last object.

It's a small, thin cardboard box. Annabeth opens it carefully, pulling out a tray of matches. One, two, three, four of them.

"Only four matches?" She huffs, closing the box. "That's a cruel amount. I bet they're all laughing at us now"

"Hey, be grateful. Would you rather have four than none at all?" I point out.

Annabeth sighs, knowing I'm right, and puts the box of matches along with her other two items.

"Your turn next" She says, nodding at my larger bag.

I waste no time in unzipping it and shaking it upside down, sending the contents sprawling across the floor.

"Careful, Guthrie, you might break something!"

"Nah, there's nothing here that can break" I say, picking up a ball-like object. "What the hell is this supposed to be for?"

"Erm... catch?" Annabeth laughs, holding up another item. It's a thin piece of curled wire. "Wire?"

"Interesting..." I pick up a clear bag and peer at the contents. Nestling inside, are six small pieces of what looks like dried fruit. "Food!"

I start to rip open the bag, I'm feeling quite ravenous after the long day of running I've just lived through. As I'm about to dip my hand in, Annabeth swipes the bag from my fingers.

"Whoa, don't go eating it all now" She says. "We should ration it"

"Ration it?" I question, staring at the measly pieces of fruit. "There's hardly anything there _to _ration"

Annabeth shakes out two pieces of fruit and hands them to me. She then does the same for her.

"Right, we'll eat these now and save the last ones for tomorrow morning, as breakfast" She explains. "We can spend tomorrow finding shelter and more food"

I nod, already tucking into my rather tiny meal. When I said it was dried fruit, I meant it was dried fruit. It's so dry that I struggle to swallow it without straining my throat. And the rough outside texture scrapes against the inside of my mouth. But it's food and I guess I'm lucky to have it. Even if it takes like shit.

Once we've finished our meal, we sit in silence for a moment, taking in today's experience.

Annabeth starts to organise our supplies, sorting them into the bags. I lean back on my elbows, staring up at the cobwebbed ceiling.

"Hey, Guthrie"

"Yeah?" I reply.

"Why did you help that girl in the bloodbath?"

"What girl?"

"Heidi. The one from Twelve"

"Oh, her" I say. "Um, I dunno"

"Yes you do. You wouldn't just help save someone's life for no reason if you're in the Hunger Games. It's the complete opposite of what you're meant to do" Annabeth persists.

I bite my lip. "Erm, well we kinda got to know each other back in training and sort of became friends. I thought it would be cruel of me not to help her, I guess"

"She had allies, so why you?"

I shrug. "They were too far to get to her in time, so I just..oh I dunno, just did what I thought was the right thing to do"

"Even if it meant risking your life?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't really thinking about myself then"

The room falls silent again.

"You like her, don't you?" Annabeth suddenly asks, breaking the silence"

"She's quite nice" I shrug.

"No, I mean _like_" She says. "Like, fancy"

"Um, no... I mean, she's like...erm, not my...type?" I stutter, feeling a little embarrassed.

Annabeth laughs. "That's a lie"

"No it's not!" I protest, but she's having none of it.

"Pfft, you can't fool me. Firstly, you're blushing"

I feel my cheeks burning.

"Secondly, you're stuttering"

"And thirdly, I've seen the way you look at her"

"What? What do you mean _'the way I look at her'?_" I ask.

She rolls her eyes. "I can see it in your eyes and the way you act around her"

"What?"

"I don't blame you, she's pretty. I bet most of the boys fancy her"

"I don't fancy-"

"Well she obviously fancies you"

That last sentence catches me off guard.

"She fancies _me_?" I repeat, unsure.

"Well, duh" Annabeth says. "She was mega flirting with you at the plant station in training. Could you not tell?"

"Erm, not really"

"That's because you were too busy oggling her! Anyone else would have noticed a mile off!" She giggles at my blushing face.

"I wasn't...oggling her..." I say quietly, feeling the embarrassment piling on.

"Of course not, just keep telling yourself that" She laughs, stretching out and then lying down on the rough carpet.

"But I wasn't!" I try, but she's rolled on her side so I'm talking to her back.

"Uh huh, whatever you say"

"No, seriously!"

"Whatever, Guthrie"

I prod her shoulder. "Stop brushing me off, I'm telling the truth"

"Of course you are, Guthrie. I believe you" She mumbles with clear sarcasm.

"But-"

"Shut up, I'm gonna catch some z's. You're on first night watch. Wake me up in a few hours"

"But-"

"Goodnight, Guthrie"

Arya Firestone, District 7 POV

I keep my back to the Cornucopia, never turning my head. Never. It will only slow me down; I'll be able to hear if anyone is following me. The ground is quite solid under my feet and even though I'm quite agile, you can still hear the faint sound of tapping. So any of those Careers except maybe that pixie looking girl from Two, will be heard a mile off. I doubt anyone will be following me anyway, but just to make sure, I'm keeping my path broken and jagged.

I managed to grab a rucksack back at the Cornucopia, just like most people. It's fairly small actually, I wish I had grabbed a larger one. But I should probably just be glad that I got out of there alive, and with some supplies.

From my metal plate, during the sixty second wait, I noticed a rather deep looking abundance of trees. My guess, and hope really, is that it was a forest. So I'm heading that way.

The arena seems to be following the theme of an abandoned village, with crumbling houses stained with age; dried out soiled floors and a constant muggy air filled with dust and dirt. I don't reckon I could last long in the village. It all looks a little creepy for me; and anyway, the Careers are bound to set up camp near the Cornucopia, which sits right in the centre. I'll be much safer and comfier in the shadows of the forest.

I glance up at the sky, the Sun is on it's way down to set. In a short while, I'll be plunged into the darkness of my first night and I hope to get to the forest before then. By the position of the sun in the ever dimming sky, I'd guess that it was around half five ish. Tea time. Though I doubt I'll have much to eat at all.

My path ahead looks to be cut short by a weak looking fence. It's too tall to tell what's behind it, but I can only presume that it's my destination. I slow to a jog as I approach the fence, keen to avoid crashing into it and drawing attention to myself.

I stop about half a metre from the wooden beams and delicately stroke my finger against the scratched wood.

"Ouch" A splinter pierces into my finger.

I swiftly pull out the tiny piece of wood from my finger and wipe the bubble of blood onto my trousers. Then, I turn my attention back to the fence.

I prod the fence harder with my toe. It's solid. Too solid. There's no way I can break through it. And even if I could, it would look way too suspicious to passing tributes.

Frowning, I scan the surrounding area. I'm standing behind an old house, leaning slightly on the dusty wall. I heave a heavy sigh, feeling deflated. If only I had something to give me a boost...

"Aha!" I exclaim quietly to myself, spotting something of use.

Just round the side of the house are some crates, about five of them piled up on top of each other. I go round to inspect them, testing their stability with a sharp shove. None move.

"Perfect" I grin to myself, pulling the top crate off the pile.

It's quite light, obviously empty, and I have to problem dragging it against the fence. I walk back and take the second crate, placing it on top of the first. Getting in the zone, I make no haste in taking the third.

Once the three are stacked neatly, and rise way above my head, I run back and slide the fourth in front of the tower. I take the fifth and final crate, placing it on top of the fourth and step back to admire my work.

The tallest stack, that reaches about a metre below the top of the fence, stands proud. The smaller stack, looking fairly sheepish, awaits my use.

I secure the rucksack on my shoulders and step up to the first stack. I place my hands on the top, find a good place to grip, and haul my body up. I crawl onto my knees, before scrambling to the next tower. I reach my hands up and do the same, pulling myself to the top.

I stand up, suddenly feeling extremely tall, and take a look at the view. I can see over the roof of the house, and actually over many others. The whole landscape looks like a sea of grey with specks of brown and black. And... red.

I squint my eyes, peering harder to make out the flickering red speck. It looks like a fire.

"Stupid person" I shake my head. "Talk about wanting to be found"

Turning away, I stare back at the once looming fence. I stand about a head taller than it now, and I can see all that's behind it. I was right, it is the forest and I almost feel like giving a little whoop. In the future I will definitely trust my instincts.

I grab hold of the fence, wincing as tons of tiny splinters stick into my fingers and palm. Ignoring the stabs of pain and the thoughts of flakes of wood being buried in my skin, I grip the fence tighter and begin to pull myself up. I swing my right leg up, scraping it over the top of the fence and letting it hang over the other side. I then heave the rest of my body upwards, sliding over the top.

I keep holding on to the fence, tightly. Craning my neck, I look down at the ground beneath me. It looks so far away, so so far. I'll probably injure myself if I drop down, but there's no trees close enough to slide down. And, my hands are beginning to quake from the strain of holding all my body weight.

I hold my breath and let go.

Streams of wood zoom past my face as gravity takes it's toll. My limbs feel useless, just flailing about in the air. I want to close my eyes, but the rush I feel inside is keeping them wide open.

I let out a silent scream as I plunge through a netting of spiked leaves and pointed thorns. They scratch at my trousers, cutting through at my skin. Some thorns snag at my cheek, ripping across the flesh and causing me to cry out in pain.

The fall seems to last forever, until at last I hit the ground. I land, butt first, into a short shrub. The impact sends shockwaves up my torso and down my legs. It takes me several minutes before I can stand up from the bush.

Once up, on slightly shaky feet, I brush myself down. However, assessing my wounds will have to wait until later on, as the sky is getting darker and I still need to find somewhere to sleep for tonight.

Pulling my rucksack from the grappling claws of the thorn bush, I shrug it onto my shoulders and head off, walking not running. My body is running on anaerobic energy now, so I'm feeling the fatigue edge over my limbs.

Dragging my feet, which seem to weigh a lot more than before, I stumble through the thick forest of lush green plants, tall billowing trees and low hanging vines that catch on my ponytail. I found a penknife in my bag earlier on, so I'm now using it as a mini axe, chopping through challenging sections of overgrown forestry.

Time drags on, the sun sets, the moon rises and I'm on the verge of collapse. I wanted to get as far away from the village outskirts as possible, but now I'm just tired. Exhausted. Fatigued. Faint.

I stop walking and look around. A sturdy looking tree, standing a few yards ahead, looks inviting. So, I stride over to it with wobbly steps and take hold of the lowest branch.

Coming from District Seven, I'm quite used to climbing trees. I was always out, claiming that there was no tree in the whole District that I couldn't climb. Me and my brother used to have competitions, which I usually won. But after his death, I stopped climbing. I never laid a finger on a branch, well, until now.

The sense of being off the ground again is exhilarating. I forgot how exciting it was to swoop under branches, grab others and swing myself up and up and up. I don't even look, my hands and feet just seem to know where to climb. And so, I find myself scaling the tree in no time.

I stop once I reach three-quarters of the way up and choose a thick branch to sit on. Leaning my back against the smooth trunk, I take a few relaxed breaths and pull my bag down onto my lap. Hurrying, I unfasten the buttoned flap and peer inside.

My hands move across a small flask, which of course is bone dry; a roll of bandages, which I smile at gratefully; a sleep mask and my penknife. No food.

"Ugh" I groan, noticing the low rumbling in my stomach.

To distract myself from the growing hunger, I decide to examine my injuries. My hands are slashed to shreds, blood seeping out from the cracks of the skin. It stings, but I don't count it as a major injury. Moving down, I scan past the similar, but larger, crevices in my lower arm where I'd rolled up my sleeve to avoid snagging it on branches and what not. Unfortunately, my arms paid the price. I look down to my legs, where the trouser has been torn on the right leg. Gently, I lift the flapping material and peer at the wound. It's deep and about five inches in length. I wince from just looking at it. The skin around is red raw, and the gash is spurting crimson liquid, like lava from a volcano.

I avert my eyes and open the bag, grabbing out the roll of bandages. I unwind a long strip, cut it off with the penknife and begin wrapping it around my injured leg. Tears sting my eyes and I have to clamp my teeth onto my bottom lip to stop me from crying out in agony. It will probably be infected by now, but I can find some fresh water to clean it in tomorrow. But for now, I'm stuck with the raw, burning flesh wrapped in rather lopsided bandages.

Once I'm finished, I tie a tight knot in the back and move on to my hands. My arms aren't too bad, they can stay uncovered, but I'll be using my hands constantly. Cutting off some smaller strips, careful not to use too much, I wind them around my hands, in and out of the fingers and eventually creating a sort of fingerless glove. I do the same on the other hand and hold my hands to admire my handiwork. It looks a bit scruffy and some pockets of blood have soaked through already, but overall it does the trick.

I roll the spare bandages up, place them in and fasten the bag, hanging it on a slightly higher branch to my left. Nestling down into the tree, I pull my jacket up to my chin and get ready to face the night.

"Bring it" I whisper and close my eyes, the gentle sounds of the forest as my lullaby.

Inva Reinhardt, District 3 POV

I go round the corner.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" Victoria asks, slightly panting.

"Erm.. not exactly" I admit. "But I'm looking for somewhere up high"

"Like a tree?" Victoria suggests.

"Hmm, maybe not. I haven't seen any trees yet, so I'm thinking more along the lines of a tall building"

"Like one that is half collapsed?"

"Yup"

I slow down, eventually coming to a halt. Victoria skids behind me, stopping just inches from my back.

"Whoa, you could have warned me"

"Oh, sorry" I mumble, but I'm not really paying much attention.

"Inva...?" Victoria follows my onwards gaze. "What are you looking at?"

"That" I point over to the tower that pokes above the grey roofs.

It's perfect. Tall, fairly central. I'll be able to see the whole arena from up there!

"The tall tower thingy?" Victoria asks, but I've already taken off down the road, my eyes never leaving the building.

I skid round corners, clouds of dust trailing behind me. The ground is dry, too dry. And I'm beginning to feel a wave of dehydration pass over me. But as determined as I am, I keep at it; running and running, seeing the tower get closer and closer within my reach.

"Inva!" I hear Victoria call after me, her voice carrying from quite a distance away.

I want to yell back at her, tell her to keep her voice down, but then that would be hypercritical. I just hope no-one's around to hear. I'm sure we're far from the Career's camp, but just to make sure I whip around and hold my finger to my lips. She gets the message, mouthing sorry and picking up her speed to catch me up. I deliberately slow down, allowing her to join me. As she comes to my right side, I can see her face is flushed and sweat trickles from her forehead, down her cheeks.

"Sorry" I say, continuing to run at a slower pace.

"S'ok" She replies, her breathing sounding heavy.

"We're almost there; I believe it is just across the next street"

She nods, unable to speak more than a few words. I smile back, turning my head forwards and running through directions in my head. I have a pretty good visual mind; I can remember images for a long time and reading a map is as simple as breathing. So remembering the rough path to the tower is an easy task.

"Are you sure about this?" Victoria sounds sceptical. "I mean, I don't want us to be running around aimlessly for long. It's beginning to get dark"

I look up at the sky. The clouds have gathered, blocking out most of the sun and creating a dark blanketing effect. And the air is chilling; night is definitely on it's way.

"Yeah, it should be around...here" I spot the tower peeping out from behind the building that stands before us.

"What do you reckon the building actually is?" Victoria asks, following me round the side of the crumbled house.

"Erm... an old town hall maybe?" I shrug, feeling unsure myself.

I step round the corner of the house and gasp in surprise. The tower is no more than an old church.

Huge sand coloured blocks create the structure of the building, most cracked and worn at the edges, but stable. Stable enough not to collapse unless forced, that is. The roof is tiled lopsidedly, some tiles that have fallen lie smashed at the foot of the church. As for the usual stained glass windows, this church has way gone past that. Instead, empty gaps in the walls stand as windows.

"A church?" Victoria stares at in in discontent, her hazy green eyes skimming over the building,

"What's wrong with churches? They're supposed to be peaceful places" I say optimistically.

"Peaceful? What about all the dead people buried in the yard?" She says.

I shrug. "I don't see any graves"

"They might be round the back" Victoria suggests.

"Fine, you go check for zombies while I look inside" I say, curiosity drawing me to the abandoned church.

Victoria rolls her eyes, but walks off around the side of the church.

I turn my attention back to the old tower of bricks and crane my neck to look at the towering steeple. I can just about see the figure of a small cross resting on top and the swirling mist of evening hovering above.

Grimacing at the cobwebbed and stained lump of wood, that's meant to be a door, I prod it open and step cautiously inside.

The interior is as bad as the exterior; dirty and old. Worm-holed pews face the derelict altar, which actually just looks like a lump of broken rock. Hanging from the walls behind the altar are tattered and frayed embroided strips of fabric, probably once showing illustrations of angels or something.

I walk further into the room, my eyes searching for a way into the steeple. I soon find what I'm looking for: a spiral staircase in the far corner of the room. It looks fairly safe enough and I move over to inspect it further.

Running my hand over the banister, I press my foot down on the first step. It creaks, but doesn't make any attempt at giving away. I breathe in relief and step onto the next stair. The same happens, a small creak but no snap.

I continue up the stairs, spiralling round and clutching the banister the whole time. When I eventually break past the ceiling and enter what I'm sure is the steeple, the stairs stop coming.

And in their place is a metal ladder, half sunken into the wall so the only things to climb up with are the bent rungs.

Feeling a little reckless, urged on by sheer determination, I grab hold of the first rung. The metal is rough and cold against my palms. I heave myself up, taking hold of the next rungs and stepping onto the lowest.

I stare upwards, at my goal, and power myself onwards. My hands and feet move in a smooth, continuous pattern as I scale the ladder. The top edges closer.

As I reach the top, my body climbs up past a ledge. I stop, letting go with one hand and testing out the ledge. It's solid, strong enough to hold my weight. I push myself off the ladder and slide onto the ledge.

My face comes up against a small gap in the wall, a window. I scramble to my knees and crouch, just peeping out of the window and not putting myself on show to any passing tributes. I gasp. I never thought I was this far from the ground!

The arena is spread out before my very eyes, like a map in my hands. Ramshackled houses, ruins of old markets, the Cornucopia. I can even see the Careers' camp, set up in the clearing where the golden horn stands. They have tents, three of them, and a huge pile of boxes, undoubtedly filled with supplies and food. I flinch, ready to duck down as I see a figure of a Career come out from a tent, but then realise that they can't see me. No-one can see me. Not even Victoria.

Victoria.

She's still down there.

Quickly, I crawl to the ladder and scurry down, crashing my knee into the metal rungs a few times on the way down. I jump down to the staircase, almost tripping down the whole lot. I then run down the aisle and out of the front door. I pause, checking the coast is clear, then sprint round the side of the church.

"Victoria?" I call in a hushed voice, peering round the back of the church.

I spot her, facing away from me. It turns out that there was a graveyard, and I step over the low metal fence. Hiking across, I call her name softly again. Maybe she didn't hear me the first time.

"Victoria?"

She doesn't stir. Her hands are closed in tight fists, held down by her stiff sides.

"Hello?"

I tap her shoulder. She flinches and her head turns towards me. Her face is drained of all colour, her pupils dilated and her lips barely move as she speaks.

"Gravestones... tributes...dead" She whispers.

"What?" I stare in confusion, but she just points to a cluster of stone headstones.

I flicker my eyes over to the bleak, grey lumps of rock. They seem perfectly normal until I look closer.

I take a step back, my heart missing a beat.

I stare straight at the first row of graves. There are four rows of six, most are plain stones, but the first row are all engraved. Engraved with names. Names that I recognise.

_Fickle Fletch. Jacob Finney. Harper Sanders. Horacio Francis. Brandon Thiessen. Kay Grinestone._

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**A/N- Well that was the Aftermath! It's nice for me to get back to our tributes in the arena, I missed them in that last chapter :( **

**So, what are your thoughts? How do you like the contrast between the Careers, any particular favourites in there? Do you think Guthrie and Heidi are potential love interests, what do you think about them together? What about Arya, how long will she last alone in the depth of the forest? And finally, what are your thoughts about the church and the gravestones? Creepyyy..**

**As usual, thanks to all who submitted and to everyone who is reading and especially those who are reviewing! I'd really like to hear your comments, even if it's just a short sentence!**

**Not sure when next chapter will be up, as I'm going back to school soon so... hmmm, we'll just have to see :)**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	16. Hunting

**A/N- Helllooo people! Gah , it's been 10 days since the last chapter...arg, time goes too quick sometimes, I swear it hates me.**

**Anyways, this chapter is finally finished and jeez, it was hard. Really, insanely hard. And man, it's soooo long. Like almost a thousand words more than previous ones! Gah, how did that happen? I got carried away I suppose...  
**

* * *

Rhea Blakemore, District 10 POV

"That's the last of the bread" I sigh, wiping the crumbs from the corner of my mouth.

"Gone already?" Luna says in disappointment. "Didn't last long"

"It was only a small loaf" I shrug, checking again for the millionth time if there's any food lurking in the backpacks.

There's none. Of course.

"Ugh, it's only the second day and already I'm feeling deprived" Luna groans, rubbing her flat stomach. "Even at home we had more than a tiny piece of bread for breakfast"

"And I used to drink milk!" The half broken door swings open and Heidi enters, her mousey brown hair flowing madly behind her. "My neighbour used to trade milk for one of my foot massages"

Luna pulls a face. "Eww, did they have icky feet? Like, all sweaty and covered in warts?"

Heidi laughs. "No, she had quite normal feet actually. Believe me, I would never touch anyone's feet unless they were clean"

"I hate feet" I mumble, thinking aloud.

Luna and Heidi give me an odd look, before bursting into fits of high-pitched giggles that bounce around the echoing room.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing, it just sounded funny" Luna giggles.

I shake my head. "Seriously?"

Heidi flops down beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. I look down at her, frowning and she looks up with wide, sky blue eyes, as if she's a child and I'm her mother.

"Heidi, what are you doing?" I ask in a dull voice.

She sticks her bottom lip out and looks even more like a little girl. "Stop being boring and sad, Rhea. Be happpyyyy"

I raise a sceptical eyebrow.

"Pleeeaaaseee" She flutters her long eyelashes up at me.

I roll my eyes. "Heidi, how can I be happy? I'm in the middle of the Hunger Games; my life could end at any day; I'll never see my family again; and now we've just ran out of food. See any positives in there?"

Heidi stares at me, pulls herself up and sighs heavily. "I know, I know. You're right. I just wanted to stay positive"

"Says the girl who had a total breakdown at the reaping" Luna mumbles from across the room, a smile curving in her lips.

"It was not a breakdown!" Heidi protests, standing up.

"Oh sorry, I mean a meltdown" Luna smirks.

Heidi scowls at her.

"I have changed since then _actually_. There will be no more of the old Heidi anymore"

"So no squealing?" I suggest.

"No screaming every two minutes?" Luna says.

"No tiptoeing around because you don't want your shoes to get dirty?"

"No constantly redoing your hair?"

"No looking in every shiny surface at your appearance?"

"No crying over broken nails?"

"Ok, guys I get it. There's no need to go that far. Besides, I'm not _that _bad..." Heidi cuts us off, clearly horrified at her appearance to others. She then speaks in a small voice. "Am I really that bad?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Nah, but anyways, that's all in the past now"

"Yes" She nods her head. "I'm a new me, doing new things"

I stand up, grab all the weapons we have and march to the door.

"Good. Cuz we're going hunting"

At first, Heidi didn't seem too keen on the idea of killing wild animals for food, but after I reminded her that she's a 'changed girl' and that if we don't, we'll all die of starvation, she decided to go along with it. In fact, she seemed a little chirpier on the cautious way down to the forest. I think she even started to hum at one point...

There's a loose plank of wood in the fence behind our hideout, so we use that as easy access to the forest. It's pretty helpful, and hidden. I'm sure we're the only ones who know about it.

Now, standing in the middle of a thick patch of greenery, Heidi's mood drops.

"Um, Rhea... How exactly are we going to hunt?" She asks, looking unsure.

"Well, I was thinking that Luna could work on setting a trap; she was really good in training" I reply.

"Aww, thanks" Luna smiles, flattered. "I'm sure I can rustle something up"

"Ok" I say, turning to Heidi. "And, then you and me could try a direct approach"

Heidi gulps. "_A direct approach_?"

"Yes" I say, tossing her a knife. She squeals at it flies towards her, leaping out of the way and letting the knife fall to the ground.

I raise an eyebrow.

"Seriously, Heidi? Just pick up the knife"

She does so, looking a little sheepish. I roll my eyes and take hold of my spear, pointing it in the direction of the thicker forest.

"I think I saw something small and furry run past a few minutes ago. We could track it or something" I say.

"Sure, you two go ahead. I'm just sorting out the equipment for the trap" Luna says, looking up from her sitting position, surrounded by all our supplies. "I'm sure I'll make something out of this. We do have some short pieces of rope, and I found some sturdy sticks for the structure"

"Ok then, we'll be off. We'll try to stay as close as possible, and meet back in a little while" I reply then turn back to Heidi. "Right, lets go"

Heidi nods, her lips tightly sealed. She looks a little nervous, not her usual happy self. A part of me feels mean for doing this, but we need food. It's not gonna catch, kill and cook itself. On the contrary, this is the Capitol's creation; anything could happen. But I doubt they'd make it that easy for us. They'd rather watch us puke as we skinned, gutted and skewered tatty bits of meat. Charming.

We start trudging through some thick shrubbery, our boots sometimes getting caught in the clutching hands of bushes. My trouser leg snags on the end of a spiked twig and I pull my leg free, tearing a small hole in the material.

Once out of the shrubs, the ground turns to a soft bed of decaying leaves and broken twigs. It's comfier under the foot, but each step brings the sound of a crack, a snap as our weight proves to much for the delicate pieces of fallen tree.

"Ugh, we're never gonna get close to anything. We're making too much noise" I sigh, stopping in my tracks.

When Heidi doesn't reply, I turn my head. I frown in confusion; she's standing a couple of metres away, back facing me, her long hair hanging neatly in plait down her spine.

"Um, Heidi?" I say, taking a small step towards her.

"Don't. Move" A sharp whisper comes from her.

I stop, instantly, freezing my whole body. My muscles feel tense, my breath quietening and my heart beating faster. I want to move, run away maybe. And at the same time, I want to advance forwards, see what she's seeing. Nevertheless, I stay still. Frozen to the spot. It's the sound in Heidi's voice and the fear of the unknown that pauses my body.

"Heidi?" I say, hushed and scared.

"Don't. Speak" She says back, sounding deadly serious, as if it's a life or death situation. Except, it could be a life or death situation.

I stare ahead as Heidi's right arm raises, ever so slowly, and I see the point of a knife glittering in the broken sunlight. My eyes grow wide as she hesitates, before abruptly throwing it to the ground, a short distance from her stance.

I flinch as a small shriek comes from under the knife, followed by a large shriek from Heidi herself.

She jumps back. "Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew!"

I snap into action, running to her side. "Heidi? What happened? What was it?"

She point with an extended finger to a grey lump of fur on the ground, pierced by the knife and trickling purple liquid.

"Oh my god, what _is _that?" I stare at it.

"I dunno, but I saw it and kinda thought I should probably kill it for food" Heidi says. "But it's kinda gross, isn't it?"

I poke it with the toe of my boot. It rolls over, showing a long snouted face, beady black eyes and more purple liquid, which I think is blood.

"It looks like some kind of...demented furry armadillo" I say, frowning down at the funny creature.

Heidi stifles a low giggle. "Well, that's one way to describe it"

Our eyes meet and we both erupt into fits of laughter. My laugh is so diabolically awful that we laugh even more and don't even hear the person running up to us until she's standing right beside us.

"Whoa, what happened? I just heard a scream and came as fast as I could" Luna explains, a worried look set on her face.

"Oh, sorry" I say, calming down my laughter. "Heidi just caught us lunch"

"What?"

"Over there" I point to the dead animal. If you can even call it that.

Luna peers down. "What the hell is that?"

"We like to call it 'the demented furry armadillo' " Heidi smirks.

"And Heidi killed it, right? Alone? With a knife?"

"Yup, entirely by herself" I nod.

Luna's mouth drops open. "Wow, you _have _changed Heidi"

Heidi smiles, takes another look at her kill and gags. Covering her mouth with a cupped hand, she rushes over to some bushes. Seconds later, the sound of weak retching fills our ears.

"It had...purple...blood" Heidi says, coughing.

Luna and I turn to each other. Our expressions match.

"Well, maybe she hasn't changed _that _much" Luna grins.

"But it's an improvement?"

Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV

"Zephyr, where are we going?" Elodie asks, moping behind me.

"To find a suitable base" I say over my shoulder.

"But what was wrong with the place we slept in last night?" She asks.

"It wasn't safe enough: too obvious and close to the Careers' camp" I explain. "What we need is a little hidden, exclusive place to sleep. Somewhere where no-one can find us"

"Not even _her_?" Elodie says in a sarcastic, low tone.

I ignore the comment and continue to walk briskly onwards.

I turn my head slightly, looking behind me through the corner of my eye. Elodie is a few metres from me, trailing behind, her feet dragging wearily along the dry, cracked ground. Her head is drooped, her eyes staring blankly at the floor. Her arms hang limply down her sides. She looks miserable.

And why wouldn't she? We're both in the Hunger Games, trawling around in the blazing heat with death looming over us like a murky thunder cloud, threatening to break out with rain at any unprepared moment. We both know anything could happen; anywhere, any time. We could turn a corner, bump into a Career and end up lying in a pool of our own blood in seconds. Or we could suddenly step on some trap, be launched into the air like an unwanted rag doll or blasted into a million tiny pieces. How do we know that a huge mutation couldn't just appear from almost nowhere and shred our bodies to pieces? How do we know?

Simple. We don't.

So I don't blame Elodie, not really. After all, what is there to be happy about? Because there's no reward for all this suffering. Not a prize for staying sane. The only prize is life itself. And that's only achievable for one person. One. Out of twenty four. Actually, I should probably say eighteen now. Sometimes I forget that six have already died, gone. And then I remember them. Not that I knew them well, or was particularly friendly with them, but that doesn't matter. They were still people; they had lives, they had a heartbeat, they had emotions, laughter, a voice. And it's unbearable to think that in such a short period, six of them, _six_, had just been wiped off the earth. Never to be seen, heard, talked to, again.

I squeeze my eyelids shut for a moment and stop walking.

A tap on the shoulder lifts them up again.

"Zephyr?" Elodie frowns at me.

"Oh, erm nothing. I was just thinking, that's all" I tell her, shaking away my previous thoughts. Thoughts of those six faces...

"Are we taking a break?" Elodie asks hopefully.

I shrug. "I suppose we could, if you wanted to"

She nods eagerly. "Good, I'm melting"

She collapses to the floor, sweat dripping from her reddened face. I reach into my bag, retrieving a flask of warm water. I throw it to Elodie.

"Sorry, it's a bit on the warm side" I say.

She doesn't seem to care as she unscrews the lid and begins gulping it down like a goldfish in a toilet. She seems unable to part from it, unable to prize her lips from the bottle. When she at last finishes, she looks up at me with apologetic eyes.

"Sorry, I kinda drank it all"

"It's fine, don't worry. I can go get some more later" I shrug it off.

"But weren't you thirsty?"

"Nah, I'm ok" I reply lightly, even though I am feeling dehydration creeping up on me. But I daren't say anything to Elodie, I don't want her to feel guilty or upset. Besides, she's more important at the moment. So if she needs water, then she'll have it, even if my mouth is on the verge of becoming sandpaper. That's the way it goes. It has to be like that. There's no other way.

Elodie passes me back the bottle and I shove it back in the bag. Then, I too, sink down to the floor for a few moments' rest. The heat blares down, as if it's focusing on me, trying to melt me like butter in a pan. I cover my eyes from the sun's light, blocking it out with my left hand, but still squinting slightly.

"Zephyr?" Elodie looks up from her hands.

"Yeah?"

"How are we going to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Survive"

I lean my head back against the wall. "Well, according to the 'Zephyr Torelli guide to ultimate survival', we must first seek shelter. Then we must find a water source"

"And then?"

"We find food, I believe"

"How?"

"Aha, that's when the interesting part comes in. My dear Elodie, to find food we must master the skill of the hunter. Well, unless you want to live on berries, which could very well be poisonous. And, you know I'm not the best at edible plants..."

"Hmm..." She ponders for a moment, then looks up sharply. "Wait, we have to hunt? And kill animals?"

"That's the idea" I nod, knowing that it wouldn't be her style. "But it's ok, I can do the killing if you don't like it"

"And the skinning?"

"Yup"

"The gutting?"

"Uh huh"

"And the cooking?"

"I suppose..."

"Good" She stands up. "Lets go then"

I look at her, feeling slightly bemused at her enthusiasm. But nevertheless, I get to my feet, grab my bag and point ahead.

"Onwards we go"

We start walking again, at a must faster pace. Elodie is even leading the way, claiming she remembers the way to the forest. We stumbled across it yesterday, while looking for some shelter. It turns out that the village is surrounded by this huge fence, separating it from the shadows of the woods. We didn't adventure in, we were too tired, but I did hear the faint sound of wildlife and the trickling of a small creek or river. Hopefully, we'll be able to refill our bottle with some water; it was already full when we got it.

"Ok, I'm pretty sure that we go this-ah!" Elodie stops in mid sentence as she crashes to the floor.

I'm instantly at her side, frowning with intense worry. She's lying on her side, clutching her right ankle with hands, white from strain. Her face is screwed up in pain, tears welling up in her eyes, but she stays silent.

"Elodie! Are you ok?" I say. "Is it your ankle?"

She nods, her teeth clamped together and her jaw tight.

"I'm just going to take a quick look, ok?" I say softly, keeping calm.

She can't have broken it, surely? She was just walking one second and the next she was on the floor. You don't break your ankle from just tripping, do you?

I manage to coax her into removing her fingers from the ankle, allowing me to assess the injury. Gently, I slide off her boot and roll up her trousers. She winces, put doesn't protest.

I look at her ankle. It looks a little crooked, sprained probably, but not broken. The bone hasn't moved too much, nor is it sticking out her skin.

Carefully, I pull her trouser leg back down.

"I think it's sprained" I report. "Not broken, I'm sure"

She nods.

Nodding back, I take her boot and begin to manoeuvre it back onto her foot. As her long, thin toes enter the shoe, she suddenly shoots her hand out and pushes my hand away.

"No shoe...it hurts...too...much" She explains through moans of pain.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think" I apologise, sliding off my over shirt and leaving me wearing just a plain black vest top. My jacket is in the bag, it was much too hot earlier. And I'm starting to think that I should have taken the second layer off as well, it's much cooler in just this thin top.

"What are...you doing?" Elodie asks, looking at the shirt in my hand.

"You'll see" I say. "This may hurt a bit"

Elodie's jaw tightens again, her teeth probably grinding together, as I take the shirt and lift up her ankle. With much placidity, I swathe her ankle with the shirt, binding it firmly around the sprained bone. Elodie mumbles a few things under her breath, which I cannot hear, but doesn't try to stop me until I've finished.

Once done, I tie it in an expert knot and announce it's completion.

Elodie sniffs, but manages a weak smile. "Thanks, Zephyr"

I smile back. "No probs. That's what older brothers are for"

"We're the same age" She corrects.

"I know, I know" I laugh, standing up and holding out my hand to her. "Need help up?"

She nods and takes my hand. With one swift pull, she's to her feet and clutching onto my arm for balance.

"Think you can walk?" I ask uncertainly.

"Um, probably a little if I hold onto you for balance" She says.

"Ok then, let's try this"

We start to move forwards, me walking and Elodie hopping along, gripping my shoulder tightly. Her balance is a little wobbly, so she ends up landing on my toe a few times.

"Sorry" She says for the fifth time as the sole of her boot crushes my toes.

"It's fine, not your fault" I say assuringly.

We continue for the next few minutes, but barely get anywhere. Each step from Elodie, well hop, takes twice as long as my step. We're not going to get anywhere, never mind the forest, before nightfall.

I stop walking.

"Ok, we're not getting anywhere" I sigh. "And I can tell you're in pain"

"Well..."

"C'mon, we'll just go inside this house here" I say, pointing. "We'll see how you feel tomorrow, then maybe we can go hunting"

She nods gratefully and I help her inside. The house, well ruins of one, is dark and murky inside. The floor is a cold stone and the walls are thick with dust and cobwebs, but it'll do. A small, stone set of stairs stand by the left wall, leading to a second level.

"Wow, this place has an upstairs" I say, looking around.

"Can we go up?" Elodie asks, hopping over to the stairs with slight difficulty. "I'd feel much safer"

I shrug. "Sure, but it will be hard for you to get up the stairs with your ankle"

"Oh well, I'll take that chance" She says, stepping up with her good leg and using the wall beside her for support.

I follow behind as she slowly ascends the stairs. She huffs impatiently a few times, but we eventually reach the top.

Upstairs is pretty much the same as the lower floor, covered in dust, but it does feel that slight bit safer. Careers probably won't bother looking upstairs if they come across the house, so it's much more secluded.

Elodie is sitting down when I turn back, her back leaning against the wall and her foot lying straight out before her. Her eyes are squeezed shut.

I go over, sitting on the floor beside her.

"Feeling better now?" I ask.

"A bit, I suppose" She replies, keeping her eyes shut.

"Hungry?" I ask, feeling the hunger myself.

"Yeah"

"I can go hunting if you like" I offer, preparing to stand up. But Elodie's hand shoots out and pulls me back.

"Don't leave me alone" She begs. "Please don't leave me"

"But we need to eat some time" I say.

"We'll go later, but just don't leave me" She whimpers, leaning her head into my neck.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and give them a soft squeeze. "I won't ever leave you. I promise"

We sit in silence as time elapses. Elodie seems to be asleep on my shoulder, the low sound of her soft breathing filling my ears. It's the only noise, except for the occasional squawk of what sounds like crows. I stay still, staring at the grey wall opposite me, my thoughts whirling around.

How did my life end up like this? How did we both end up alone, hurt and hungry, sitting in dust filled ruins and staring at empty walls?

I sigh. My stomach rumbles.

How long has it been since I last ate? I know I haven't drank since this morning and now dehydration is really starting to get at me. My mouth is as dry as a desert, my head is pounding and I feel weak and empty.

I close my eyes.

A quiet twinkly noise arouses me and I stretch out my arms. Elodie's head has fallen, now resting peacefully on my knee. Trying not to wake her, I shuffle from beneath her and rest her head on my bag. She murmurs, but stays asleep.

On my feet again, I hobble over to the window. The sky is a steady orange glow, with flecks of red and pink here and there. The sun is no longer visible, hidden by other buildings and ruins, but sending out a warm radiance that outlines the silver box on sitting on the window sill.

Wait a minute.

I rub my eyes and when I look again, the silver box is still there. My hand reaches out and touches it's smooth shape. I pull it from the window ledge and hold it in my hands. It's about the same size as a small loaf of bread and weighs a substantial amount. Fiddling with the top, I figure out an opening. The lid flaps open and the smell of warm soup fills my nostrils.

As I peer inside, I notice a small slip of cream paper. Plucking it out, my eyes read over the words. _Feeling hungry?_

A smile creeps across my face as I pull out the contents of the box. A cylinder container full with hot, steaming soup and a parcel of crusty bread. It's not a lot, but it will feed us both.

Clutching the note to my chest, I look upwards and whisper.

"Thank you"

Kelvin Galloway, District 2 POV

I wake to the sound of arguing. It fills the tent, fills my ears. Groaning, I turn onto my stomach and pull the sleeping bag over my head in an attempt to drown out the constant shouts and screams. But, naturally, it doesn't do much good. The yells from outside still crash against my ear drums.

With a huff of annoyance and grumpiness, I roll over into a sitting position. Rubbing my eyes, I adjust to the light. My head is pounding and I feel as if a million tiny soldiers are marching up and down my brain.

"Need coffee" I say to myself, stumbling to my feet.

It's when my head hits the top of the tent that I realise I can't have coffee. I'm in the Hunger Games, remember? We don't have coffee. Unless...

"Any sponsors fancy sending your future Victor some coffee?" I ask, hoping that I'm on camera right now. If I am, coffee will be outside my tent within minutes. Sponsors love me, I can get anything I want in here.

Yawning, I grab my shirt and slip it on. It's a little tight around my chest, as of all the muscle obviously, but it'll do.

I kick my sleeping bag into the corner and pull the opening flap of the tent. Bright rays of sunshine pour into the tent, causing me to squint as I emerge into the outdoors.

The air is muggy and dry. I groan and walk to the main sort of 'lounge' of the camp. As I get there, I spot Ray, slouching on a fold-up chair, looking rather fed up.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes. "The girls have been at each others' throats all morning"

"What time is it now?" I frown, wondering how long I've slept in.

"I dunno, got no clock. But it's early afternoon" Ray shrugs. "I slept all morning"

"Oh yeah, how was night watch?" I sit down on another chair.

He grins. "It was...interesting"

"You and Ren get along ok?"

"Oh yes" His grin turns into a wicked smile. "We're like best buddies"

I raise my eyebrows in doubt. "Good to hear it..."

At that moment, Brooklyn comes storming over, her face red with rage. In her hand, she waves a small grass snake, it's body hanging limply in her grasp.

"I have had enough of that bitch" She screams, waggling the snake at our faces. "Look at this snake!"

"What about it?" I ask, casually, just to annoy her.

"What about it?!" She yells. "It's a bloody snake and she put it in my sleeping bag!"

Ray snorts with laughter and Brooklyn glares at him, her eyes sending daggers to his.

"It is not funny! It could have been poisonous and killed me in the night!" She shouts.

"Well isn't that the whole idea of this game? To kill people?" Ray asks dumbly.

"Not in an alliance it isn't. We're supposed to be working as a team to kill others and she's trying to murder _me_!"

"It was dead, it couldn't have killed you. Besides, its a grass snake, they're not poisonous" Bryn saunters in, her arms folded across her chest. Tal is behind her, looking as if he's about to explode with laughter.

"That's not the point!" Brooklyn spins round to her.

Bryn smiles innocently. "It was house warming gift, to welcome you into the tent. I thought it was nice of me, seeing that we're roomies"

"Nice? You...you you... Ugh!" Brooklyn throws the dead snake to the ground and takes off, her long loose hair flowing behind her like a cape.

Once she's out of earshot, we all crumble into fits of laughter.

"That was classic" Ray says, wiping a tear from his eye. "Where'd you get the snake?"

"The forest" Bryn smirks. "Me and Tal found it while gathering firewood yesterday. We thought it would make an excellent present for 'Miss I Am Perfect' "

"Well she certainly took to it well" Ray chuckles. "Please do more, she looks sexy when she's angry"

We all fall silent.

However, I do get what Ray is saying; Brooklyn does look quite hot when she's all fired up... Well, actually, she looks hot whatever mood she's in.

"Ugh, Ray, seriously?" Bryn rolls her eyes. "Talk about ruining the moment"

"But it's true, Kelvin and Tal will back me up, won't you guys?" Ray flicks his eyes between us.

"Um...yeah, I suppose she's alright" I shrug, acting cool.

"And you, Tal?" Ray asks him.

Tal stands, looking rather awkward. While me and Ray both stare at him, waiting for an answer, Bryn elbows him sharply in the side.

"Don't just stand there, you doof"

"Oh, right..erm.." Tal stutters. "She's not, erm, my type"

Bryn laughs, looking pleased for some reason. Probably because she hates Brooklyn, or maybe because she likes Tal...

"Just as I thought" She pokes his shoulder. "C'mon, you, let's go do something fun"

Ray gives a comical wink at the two younger Careers, which is returned with a smug grin from Bryn, and the two stroll off.

Ray sighs and leans back into his chair. "Now, let's chill before they come back"

"Seconded" I grin, also leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes against the strong sun.

Being a Career is awesome.

I must have drifted off for a while, because when I open my eyes again, the early afternoon sun has started to move down. It's probably around four in real time, although time here is just light and dark hours.

I sit up and rub my eyes. Ray has disappeared from his chair and I seem to be alone, until Tal wanders past.

"Hey, Tal" I beckon him over. "Where's your other half?"

"She's not my 'other half' " Tal says, blushing slightly. "And she's taking a nap before her night watch tonight"

I nod. "Ah, of course. I'm on with her. Which reminds me; fancy going to fill up some bottles with water? There's a bucket by the well you can lower down"

"Erm..."

"That was an order, not a friendly suggestion, Tal"

"Oh right, ok _boss_" He gives a sarcastic salute, before heading off in the direction of the well.

I close my eyes again. Scrap being just a Career; being the leader of the Careers is awesome.

An hour or so later, there's been no sign of Tal with the bottles. Confused, I rise from my seat and walk over to the well. The bucket is on the floor, I bend down and touch it. Bone dry.

I frown. The bucket would still be a little bit damp; it couldn't have dried _that _quickly.

I walk around the other side of the well. And standing, all in a perfect row, are six bottles. I pick one up. Empty.

"What..."

The sound of footsteps grabs my attention and I spin around. It's Tal, carrying a large pile of logs in his arms. He doesn't notice me at first.

"Tal!" I yell and he whirls around.

"Yeah?" He calls back.

"What are you doing? I told you to fill up these bottles" I wave an empty bottle in the air.

"Oh, sorry Kelvin. Brooklyn told me to get some firewood"

"So?"

"I told her that you told me to fill up the bottles, but she said she'd do them instead"

"But...Hold on a moment, you took orders from Brooklyn over me?"

Tal shrugs. "I suppose, yes"

I throw down the bottle angrily and it hits the floor with a loud crash. Tal jumps a little, dropping a few logs.

"Pick 'em up pronto" I snap at Tal. "I've got to have a little word with Miss Virgona..."

I turn sharply on my heels and stomp over to the tents. When I reach Brooklyn and Bryn's tent, I push furiously through the entrance flap.

Brooklyn looks startled at my approach.

"Ever heard of knocking, Kelvin? I could have been half naked" She glares at me with flaring eyes.

"Oh shut up" I snap.

She gives an annoyed gasp. "How dare you just burst into my room and start yelling at me to shut up! What's wrong with you?!"

"I'll tell you what's wrong. I'm angry"

"Well, I never..." She says sarcastically.

"Shut up with your sarcasm, Brooklyn" I moan. "I'm here because I wanted to ask why the hell you were ordering Tal around when I'd specifically asked him to do something for me"

"I can give orders to whoever I like. You're not the boss of me"

"Uh, yes I am. I'm the leader of this pack. I make the rules and you follow them. If you have a problem, you get out"

"Pfft, who says you're the boss?"

"Who doesn't? I'm from Two, I'm the strongest, the best fighter, the most intelligent, the most experienced. And, I'm a Galloway"

"Don't humour yourself, Kelvin. You're just an arrogant pig. And being a Galloway doesn't make you leader"

"It does so. Every Galloway has been the leader; always has been and always will be. And every one has become Victor. I'm just continuing the tradition"

"Well I'm altering the rules a little. So if you have a problem, go make your own pack" She spits at me. "No-one wants a thick-headed, egotistic, conceited jerk like you here anyway"

"Well no-one wants a..." I pause for a moment and stare at her flushed face, her fierce eyes that are neither blue or green, her pursed pink lips and find myself unable to say anything other than, "God, Brooklyn. You _are _sexy when you're angry"

Layla Roberts, District 4 POV

The forest is unfamiliar to me. I was used to the vast, salty air and the feel of the wind wiping across my face. I was used to the mounds of supple sand that seeped between my toes and stuck to the bottom of my feet like glue. I was used to the sound of squawking seagulls, tossing waves and laughing people, fishing in the open blue.

But here? The air is thick with humidity, damp hanging in the air like an unpassing fog and the only breeze on my face is the slaps of vines and branches. The ground isn't soft, it's wet, sticky and coated in leaves and mud. And the only sounds that break the deafening silence are the occasional scurry of creatures, rumbles from inside bushes and the dense sound of my own breathing.

So I ask myself again, why did I hide out in the forest?

Several reasons; one being that I needed to get as far from the Careers as possible. I was meant to be part of them, I'm technically a Career, but I chose otherwise. They'll remember me for sure and they'll come after me. To show me what I could have been a part of; to rub it in my face. To call me a wimp. But I'm no wimp. I, at the young age of thirteen, volunteered! I've had no training, no special treatment. I'm barely just eligible for these Games, yet I still volunteered. They don't need to know why, but I still did. I'm braver than the whole lot of them.

Ok, maybe not when it comes to one thing. Boys. In particular, Tal.

Whenever I think about him, I crumble. Not only because of being completely in love with him, but mainly at embarrassment at my own stupidity. Remembering back even makes me cringe and seize up with annoyance. How ridiculous I must have seemed to him! Stammering, saying everything wrong, acting like a complete girl.

Yes, I am a girl. I mean all gooey and desperate. Like some of the girls back in District Four. Ones that coo over boys like Tal and don't seem to care if they look pathetic.

Am I turning into one of them?

I certainly hope not.

"Ouch" Another prickled branch lashes at my cheek, a stripe of stinging soreness across my skin.

This has happened loads before today, but it has never hurt this much. With the back of my hand, I press gently on my cheek. The skin feels warm, burning. I remove my hand and see that it's stained with vivid red blood that smears unattractively. Pulling a face, I wipe it on my trousers and plod on.

I'm not entirely sure on where I want go. Just onwards, I suppose. Explore the woods while it's still day. Well, not that it's particularly bright anyway. The trees have made sure of that. Although, I admit, the giant parasol of leaves would make good shelter if it were to rain. But I doubt it would any time soon. It's boiling.

A groan comes from my stomach. I sigh; I haven't eaten since yesterday morning. But that was breakfast in the Capitol, so I haven't eaten at all in the arena.

My stomach moans again, calling for food. I've missed yesterday's lunch and tea; also today's breakfast and possibly lunch. I've never missed that many meals, not even at home where I had no parents to cook for me. I had no-one to cook for me. Not even a kind auntie, who isn't even related to me.

I was a loner. Lived on my own, cooped up in a deserted old fishing shed, only furnished with a wobbly stool, tattered sheets as curtains and a few piled sacks as a bed. I wasn't poor; I didn't need money, nor did I care for it. All I needed was access to food. And over the years of living alone, I learnt to be quite the bargain hunter, getting all my meals for free.

I sigh at the thought of food. Even the disgusting salted seaweed I once ate seems tasty.

A shrill shriek cuts my thoughts and stops me in my tracks. I stand still, my heart pumping solidly as I wait tensely for the next screech.

It comes not even a minute later. And it's louder. Much louder.

By the third cry, I'm starting to feel anxious. My palms are damp with sweat, loosening the grip on my crossbow. I'm not even sure on how to use this weapon, but it's the only thing I have.

The fourth and most penetrating screech sends a shiver down my spine, which travels down my legs and forces me into a panicked run.

Big mistake.

I should have stayed still, waited for the creature, whatever it is, to pass. By moving, I gave away my position and drew attention to myself. And I'm really wishing I hadn't.

As I run, as there's no point in stopping now, I'm sure that thing is following me. The cries are less often, but the heavy rustling in the trees above me assures that I'm not alone. That it's following me.

Ducking under a low branch, I slightly stumble, tripping onto my knees. My hands fall flat against the leaf covered ground, taking most of my weight and therefore sending darts of sharp pain up my wrists.

I curse under my breath and start to get back to my feet. However, as I try to regain stance, something from above swoops down, skimming my back and I duck back down just in time. A cry of annoyance comes from above me and I twist my neck to see what's there.

"Holy shit" I stare at the creature above my head.

A body coated in thick, dark feathers, tattered and torn. Skinny, mustard coloured legs, ending in spear like claws. Wings, spread out wide and far. And beady, red eyes, accompanied by a long, pointed crimson beak. Eek.

It perches on a branch, surveying me with it's wicked eyes; watching my very existence with an overhanging threat. I'm in a vulnerable position; it's standing like my elder, my dominant. And I'm merely it's slave, bowed to the floor in fear and shame.

But that's not who I am. I will not cower before this unnatural creation. It's not real, it's simply a Capitol's formation. They planned this to happen. They want another death; or at least a brutal fight. And I'll give them that. I will not whimper and succumb to my end, for their entertainment. No.

They want entertainment. Well, how about a game of bird watching? Only, the watching part will be seeing it tremor under my wrath.

I roll across the floor to reach the fallen crossbow; I grab it, ducking again as the bird swoops down. Now, breathing heavily, I clutch the bow, my finger resting on the trigger. I've never used one before, but it looks pretty simple. Just aim, pull the trigger and tadaa, I've got a dead bird on my hands. Maybe I could eat it... On second thoughts, maybe not.

Seizing my chance, I leap to my feet, point the bow at the bird and promptly pull the trigger. I flinch as the bolt fires from the bow at untrackable speed and watch it miss the bird by about half a metre.

Wow. Isn't my aim fantastic? _Sarcasm_.

The bird coos, as if to mock me and laugh at my failed attempt. I feel embarrassed myself, being laughed at by a bird. If I'm on camera, think about how many _people _will be laughing at me too? They'll be chuckling, saying things like: _She's useless, can't even shoot straight. She be dead in days, if she even survives this. Pathetic. Weak. Shouldn't have volunteered._

My grip tightens as I clench my jaw. I lift up the crossbow, direct it at the centre of the bird's body and pull my finger back on the trigger. This time, I do not flinch and wait for the cry of death.

It comes, but not quite how I expected. Instead of lying in a dead, useless heap, it still sits on the branch above me, it's eyes gleaming with fury and a large tear in it's right wing.

With a screech of antagonism, it lurches forward, beak aimed directly at my face.

I jump back, startled and manage to dodge the onwards hit; the beak just nipping the top of my shoulder. I scream, clasping my free hand over my shoulder in agony. scarlet blood already seeping through my jacket.

A cry of victory echoes from the bird as it swerves in the air, slightly lopsided as of its wounded wing. As it comes to face me, I start treading backwards, staggering over twigs and tree roots. The ruby glowing eyes of the bird never leave mine as I back away, my body trembling with both fear and dread.

At first, the bird seems to have had its fun and stays sitting on it's twisted branch. But as I turn to make my escape, I know that it's not quite finished.

Several calls of high-pitched sirens come from behind me and I understand that it wants me dead. And sooner rather than later.

I change to a stumbling sprint, my feet occasionally faltering as I leap over fallen trees and thick forestry. I almost twist my ankle a few times, but I power on, the only thought on my mind being that there's a killer demon bird behind me that wants my blood. That distracts me from the thought of food.

I've lost track of how long I've been running, maybe a few minutes, but I'm already running into lactic acid. My muscles burn and throb, my feet ache and my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.

The angry squawks from the bird indicate that it's still behind me, catching up. Time's ticking by and I know I won't last much longer.

I take another stride and-

"Ah!" The ground comes up to meet my face.

Dazed and winded, I roll onto my back, just in time as the bird darts towards me. Pulling out my crossbow, I take a random shot and squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for either a scream from the bird or a speared beak through my neck.

After a short while of darkness, I flicker open my eyelids. Propped up on my shaking elbows, I see a lump of black feathers at my feet. I nudge it with my toe. Dead.

Breathing a sigh of relief and exhaustion, I heave myself up into a sitting position. My shoulder stings, but little blood is pumping from it now. Not like the mounds I had of it before.

Looking around me, I spot my bag, lying half in a bush, the contents spilled out in a scattered arrangement. Everything I remember is still there. Thank goodness.

Groaning, I crawl over to the bag and begin stuffing the objects inside. After the first item goes in, I pause, remembering something. Where did I put the crossbow? I remember after I took a unsystematic shot at the bird, I dropped the crossbow to the right of my body. But, turning back, notice that it isn't present.

Puzzled, I go back over to where I lay, a lovely imprint of my body shape pressed into the mud. A similar print, one in the shape of a crossbow, sits beside it. But no crossbow.

I frown.

Getting up to my feet, I walk back over to the bird and stare down at the corpse. Something strange catches my eye. Imbedded into the back of the creature is a dirty knife. And a few inches aside, on the ground, lies a clean bolt.

I freeze, reeling inside. I don't own a knife, yet the bird was impaled by one. I had a crossbow, but now it has gone unaccountably. And finally, my bag was fastened securely, yet somehow it managed to unzip itself when I fell over.

There can only be two solutions.

One: I'm going completely mental.

Two: Someone is stalking me.

And I have a horrible feeling that it's the second one.

* * *

**A/N- Phew, your eyes and brain are exhausted, right? I know my brain hurts, I need a rest. But not for long, as the next chapter needs starting tomorrow :/**

**Sooo... what did you think?  
Do you think the Girls Alliance will last long, or will something (or maybe someone) break them apart? And, ahhh the first sponsor gift! Do you think Zephyr and Elodie deserved it? What about the Career Pack; do you see any potential love interests? Finally, what about Layla, do you think she's as brave as she thinks she is and what about her 'stalker'? Do you have an ideas who it could be? *Hint. Think back...***

**As usual, thanks for all the support guys! I really love you all! And for those people who have yet to review, please do. It takes less than a minute to leave a comment, but it can go a longggg way :D So please, lets get some more in, it could be your good deed for the day :P**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	17. The Quake

**A/N- Phew! This took a while... And it seems that my chapters get longer and longer... Oh well, you seem to like long chapters :D**

**Anywho, I now present unto you...chapter 18!**

* * *

Tal Fontaine, District 4 POV

"Flick your wrist, don't push" Bryn explains, demonstrating with expertise and sending the knife into the tree, dead centre of the drawn out target.

"Right, got it" I nod. "Flick the wrist"

I try my best to follow her example, stand how she stands, position how she positions. But as I throw the blade, it completely misses, not even getting close.

I growl with anger, frustration and partly embarrassment. How does she do it with such ease, such precision? It just looks effortless when she does it; a simple flick of her dainty looking wrist and bam, perfect shot. She's even quite good at longer distances! But of course, she always has to add in that extra little fancy trick here and there, and then act all smug about it. Not that I expect any less; if she didn't, then she wouldn't be Bryn.

I sigh, feeling partially defeated. There's her perfect rallies, and then there's my failed attempts. I hit a tree once, but it wasn't even the right one. It was two trees to the left.

"What am I doing wrong?" I moan, picking up the knife in a grump.

Bryn laughs and stands beside me.

"Your wrist was to tense. You need to relax it..." She rests her warm hand on my wrist, squeezing it ever so delicately and sending tingles up my arm. "Relax, Tal. Relax"

I take my breathes deep and slow, setting my whole body into rest mode. Bryn keeps her hand on for a short while longer until I've completely relaxed. Then, she removes it.

"Try again"

I take in some cool breaths and focus on the target in front, the scratched white lines on the tree being the only thing I can see.

I lift up my arm, loosen my wrist and flick. I watch with great expectations as the knife cuts through the air and finally stops as it hits the tree.

I can't see what score I got, but Bryn seems happy as she pulls the knife from the trunk.

"Six" She announces.

A six, not too bad. It's over halfway. And, at least I hit the tree in the first place.

"Six" I nod. "That's alright"

"Hmm, could do better. Way better. But that was good...for you" Bryn slots the knife into her already full belt. "C'mon, lets go for a walk before sunset"

"Sure, I think I need a break from all this intense training" I shrug, walking after her.

That's what it seems to be lately; me following her. Never seems to be the other way round. Not that I mind particularly, I like following her... Not in that way. I mean, she's really cool and fun to be around. I'm always in stitches around her, laughing hysterically and getting the hiccups. It's mainly the pranks we pull that are the most fun, and the most hilarious. I think, so far, the best one we did was when Bryn put a grass snake in Brooklyn's sleeping bag. That was pure genius.

I'm just glad she likes me; well, at least I think she does; because I certainly wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of her. She can be deadly, well we learnt that from the Bloodbath as she made no hesitation in committing the first kill, followed by several more. I actually surprised that she hasn't murdered Brooklyn in her sleep yet; probably because everyone would turn on her.

I wouldn't.

"Hurry up, slow coach!" Bryn calls from ahead of me. My thoughts must have slowed me down, so I jog and catch up with her.

"Where are we going exactly?" I ask, falling in with her steps.

"A place" She says, deliberately letting go of a branch so that it slaps me across the face.

I brush it off, a swipe of pain horizontally from one cheek to another. It's not bleeding, but it still hurt a bit.

"Hey, don't branch-slap me" I poke her shoulder roughly.

She laughs. "Don't prod my shoulder"

"Don't give me a reason to then" I smirk, pressing my finger sharply into her other shoulder.

"Get off"

"Nope"

"_Tal_"

"_Bryn_"

"Oh, you're so annoying"

"Yup"

She says nothing more, and I can presume that she's scowling. That her thin, shaped eyebrows are knotted in a deep frown of menace. One that I recognise oh too well.

She takes me deeper into the forest, still no words about where we're supposed to be heading for. I avoid a few more branches, making sure I keep one hand out in front of my face in case of a shock attack. Along the way, we spot a sort of cat-like creature, which I successfully spear like a fish with my trident might I just add, and place it in our sack. We always take one of the large sacks with us, because we always end up crossing paths with something that would contribute for the night's supper. They've mostly been small birds or rats, so catching the cat thing was pretty special. Ren will be pleased with us; he's been nominated as the camp chef. I know, weird right? Brooklyn's new thing she does; giving people roles in the alliance. It's pretty stupid in my opinion, but Kelvin seems to like it.

"This big chunk of meat will get us back into Ren's good books" Bryn says, as if she's just read my mind entirely.

"Haha, I was just thinking that" I say.

"Ooh, connection" Bryn sarcastically, but amusingly as well. "Do you think he's forgiven us for the other night?"

"Hmm, I dunno. Possibly, although he always seems to sit up at night; as if he's waiting for me to fall asleep first"

"Haha, really? We must have got him bad"

"It did look pretty realistic and Ray's acting was pretty believable" I point out, remembering the look on Ren's face when he thought Ray had been stabbed by a masked tribute.

Ah, funny times. Funny times.

"I know I've asked you a load of times, but you never seem to answer me properly" I begin. "Where are you taking me?"

"Just a little place I like to call: the River of Redemption" Bryn replies, stopping and pulling back a leaf-covered branch, revealing our destination.

"Redemption?" I ask, confused. "What's that all about?"

She shrugs. "I dunno, it sounded fancy"

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Bryn, you could never be fancy if your life depended on it"

Bryn gives a hurtful gasp. "That's not very nice, is it Tal?"

"But it's true" I remark. "You're much too common, immature..."

"_Common! Immature!_" Bryn exclaims, skidding to a halt, before scooping up some water from the river (of Redemption) and chucking it in my face.

Although shocked by the sudden cold, wetness on my face, I manage to let out a cheeky grin.

"Oh, so that's how you want to play it then" I say in a threatening voice. "Let the battle commence"

Bryn squeals as the first handful of slithering water hits her face. But she's instantly back with another blast of water, which splats expertly on my forehead.

"That's all you got?" I ask competitively, scooping up some more water to throw.

She tries to make a getaway, but her water soaked trousers slow her down and I manage to empty the water down her jacket. She screams as it sloshes down her back and she has to pull off her jacket.

"That was cruel" She says, running straight back to the river and plunging her hands in, before doing exactly the same and pouring it all down my shirt. I feel the freezing liquid slipping down my spine, being absorbed by not only my shirt, but by my under vest top also. The drenched material clings to my back and I too, shrug off my jacket, but also have to pull of my two shirts so that I'm standing completely topless.

Bryn's back is to me, so she doesn't notice that I'm half naked until I drop a load of water over her short pixie cut hair. She shrieks, then glares up at me, but suddenly notices my lack of clothes.

She pauses, staring at me, then shakes her head and slashes water at my chest.

"Eww, get some clothes on, Tal" She pretends to shield her eyes. "Innocent young child here"

I laugh. "_Innocent? Young child?_ Bryn, you're fourteen and you've already killed several people"

She removes her hand. "I'm just kidding. I'm way more evil than you"

"Yup, I have to agree with that" I say, bending down. "And you know what happens to evil people..."

She already guesses what I'm about to do and starts to run away, her feet splashing wildly in the shallow waters.

"Nonononononooo!" She cries as I splash water at her back.

"Who's more evil now?!" I chuckle in a devilish way.

Just as Bryn reaches the water's edge, a sudden surge comes from the earth beneath us. It knocks Bryn off balance, sending her toppling down to the floor. I stumble forwards, but manage to keep upright.

The floor stops shaking almost suddenly, as I cautiously make my way over to Bryn. With my helping hand, she gets back to her feet and looks at me with a puzzled face.

"What the hell was that?" She asks the exact same question that's playing on my mind.

"No idea, I was gonna ask you the same" I shrug, knowingless. "Maybe it was some sort of earthquake or something"

Bryn raises a sceptical eyebrow. "No shit, Sherlock"

Another vibration in the ground comes, this one a little more powerful than the last. This time, we both go over, crashing to the floor like dominoes. I end up lying flat on top of Bryn, my weight pressing down on her like a ton of bricks.

She coughs. "Get off me you fool. I can't feel my leg"

I laugh slightly and roll over, letting the blood return to her leg.

She lifts up her head and turns it to face me. "I would say: who ate all the pies, but you're not actually that fat"

"I'm not fat at all!" I retort in defence.

"I know, you're pretty slim to be honest" She smirks. "And by the looks of it, you're quite keen on sunbathing"

"Sunbathing?" I say bluntly. "I do not _sunbathe_. I'm just out in the sun a lot"

Bryn giggles, something that I've never heard her do before. Her laugh is normally dark, filled with mischief and slyness. But this? This is different. This is shy, more girly and fun.

"What are you laughing at?" I ask.

"Just a thought" She says absently.

"Describe"

She doesn't get the chance to explain, as another wave of movement comes. And this time, it's even stronger.

A few smaller, weaker trees a little further from our position snap and fall to the ground. They make a hefty sound as they hit the earth and I flinch when they do. The earthquake itself creates quite a loud sound, a dull but solid sound. I stick my fingers in my ears to try to block it out and squeeze my eyes shut until the quake is over.

Once it has finally finished, after what seems like forever, the forest falls silent again.

Feeling a little shaky, I get to my feet and look for Bryn. I spot her, a short distance from me, near the edge of the clearing where the thick abundance of trees start.

"Bryn?" I call over.

When she doesn't answer, I notice that her body is completely still. Deadly still.

A knot forms in my stomach and I start to feel sick. My hands are trembling in their closed fist as I shakily walk over to Bryn.

"Br...Bryn?" My voice quivers.

And again, she doesn't reply and stays motionless.

A frightening chill forces itself around my body and I fall to my knees. My hands desperately shake her limp body, willing for her to snap out of this state.

"Wake up, please" I beg her. "Don't do this to me Bryn, not now. I'm not ready"

I hover my shuddering hand over her nose hoping for a soft breeze of her cool breaths to tickle the back of my hand. When I don't feel an instant breath, anxiety breaks free and I start to feel tears welling up in my eyes.

I don't bother wiping them away, I let them freely fall down my face.

She can't be dead. She just can't. I would have heard the canon. Yes, I would have heard it.

But then again, I couldn't hear anything over the sound of the quake. I could have easily missed it.

"Oh my god, no. Bryn... Just wake up, please. I'm begging you" My desperate pleas echo around the empty woods.

"Bryn...please, I...I..." My throat closes over my words as I stare at her lifeless body.

How I wish she would jump up and elbow me right in the ribs (one of her personal favourites), or slap me jokingly on the cheek, or even criticize my knife throwing skills. Anything. Just to see her alive again.

Yet, of course, none of these happen. Time seems to have frozen and all I can do is stare into the oblivion. It's like my whole body has come to skidding halt and that my pounding heart beat is the only thing keeping my alive. The world blurs before me and the silence is deafening.

Deafening, until it's broken by a sudden sarcastic voice I know and love so much.

"You what? Love me?"

Phosphorus Vox, District 7 POV

I feel like cheering, whooping and leaping for joy. In fact, I even feel like dancing. And I don't dance. Ever.

But now, I feel like I could do anything. I could...climb the highest mountain, scour the deepest ocean, ride the wind. And by my side the whole time, would be my crossbow. My gorgeous, gorgeous crossbow.

Just running my fingers over its smooth structure and letting it just sit comfortably in my hands, is the greatest feeling I've felt in ages. It's even better than when I took a bite of that pudding in the Capitol!

I know I took a huge risk that day; chasing after a Career in the Bloodbath. If I had time to think about it properly, I would have just taken a bag and ran, like everyone else. But it was just seeing that crossbow, in possession of someone else, that drove me reckless. Thinking about it now, I could be dead right now. If that girl had have seen me, she would have most definitely killed me. Or tried to kill me. In fact, she probably couldn't have; she's completely useless with the bow!

As I watched her fighting with that bird thing, I felt myself cringing inside. She looked ridiculous, just waving the crossbow everywhere and randomly pulling the trigger, no clue whatsoever. In fact, if it weren't for me, she'd be dead now. I was the one who lobbed the knife at the bird and killed it. I don't know why, but I did. I guess maybe I was feeling sorry for her... Actually no, I think I was more frustrated at the way she handled the bow, like a baby with a rag doll.

Anyways, whatever way you look at it, I saved her life. Even if it was for entirely selfish reasons.

"Ugh, dammit" I hear her curse below.

Curious, as ever, I peer through the branches and look down at her. She's sitting on the ground, leg crossed and carving into a stick furiously. Shreds of flaked wood come flying off, scattered around the floor at her feet.

I watch as she grits her teeth and continues on, attacking the stick viciously. I feel a small grin growing on my face as her red flushed face starts to sweat. This is actually quite entertaining.

After a few more minutes, she stops, wipes her forehead and holds the newly modelled stick in front of her. She seems pretty pleased with herself.

"Right, now for some food" She says, standing up.

Food? I guess my plans of leaving will be postponed for a little while.

Grabbing my bag, I put the crossbow inside and then strap it onto my back. Quickly peeping down, I check which direction the girl is going and begin scurrying in the same way.

My hands and feet find the branches with ease as I move along from tree to tree, constantly checking that I'm still above her. Ducking under lower branches and stepping over others, I scramble across.

The girl below has seemed to have picked up some speed, so I do the same, earning myself a little graze on my knuckle. I ignore it and carry on, determined not to lose her.

When at last she stops, I can see we're at the river. The girl dumps her bag on the ground beside her, wipes over her pointed stick and wades into the waters.

I shuffle, finding a sturdy branch and settle down, giving myself a clear view.

The girl below waits, her body so still that you would think she were a statue. Then, without so much as a beforehand flinch, her arm darts downwards and plunges the stick into the river. When she pulls it out again, about three small fish are speared on the end, skewered like a kebab.

I feel my eyebrows raise in surprise, but then I realise. She's from District Four. Fishing is in her blood.

'So fish is on the menu tonight' I smile to myself. Fish is good. Fish is very good.

I watch in awe as she darts around the river, spearing here there and everywhere. The pile of fish behind her builds up in shocking speed and I already feel my mouth watering.

When she at last pulls back from the river, she counts the fish. One, two three. Four, five, six. Seven, eight, nine. Nine fish! That's enough to feed the whole Career pack! Well, I'm sure she won't notice if one or two go missing...

Driven by the smell of fish, I follow her as she searches around the forest. She uses the river as a guide, it seems, until she spots something of interest. At first I think it's just a bush, but the girl pushes it back to reveal a small cave.

A cave!

She throws her supplies in, including the fish to my disappointment, then disappears inside. A minute later, she emerges and looks around. I pull back, secluding myself behind the dense blanket of leaves and wait tensely, listening to her steps as she walks around below.

The footsteps die down and I cautiously peep my head out, scanning the forest floor. The girl has gone and small wisps of smoke escape from the mouth of the cave. Seconds later, the smell of grilling fish enters my nostrils.

My mouth dampens and I feel my stomach grumble.

The tempting smell proves to much for me that I start to climb down the tree, landing lightly at the bottom with a quiet thud. Having the ground beneath my feet feels odd. I've been up in the trees for so long, so standing upright is strange to me. And I can't say I like it that much. I sort of feel isolated here, as if I'm on show and nothing is hiding me. But another waft of cooked fish pulls me forwards.

Tiptoeing with great concentration not to be heard, I reach the side of the cave. As I do, the bush suddenly parts and the girl pulls through. I press myself against the side of the cave and hold my breath.

_Please don't see me. Please don't see me._

I open my eyes slightly and see the back of the girl, walking away from the cave, the carved spear in her hand. She looks to be heading back to the river or something.

Breathing a sigh of relief I step forwards off the cave wall. I don't know how long she'll be gone, but I decide that I need to act quick to be on the safe side.

Checking one last time, I make sure that the girl is long gone and turn back to the cave entrance. Pushing my arms into the bush, I part the leaves and slip inside.

The cave inside is quite dim, the only light coming from the gaps in the curtain of leaves. But it's light enough for me to look around.

I find the fish with much ease, five sticks filled with chunks of grilled fish. I feel my hand reaching forwards and grabbing the nearest. Without hesitation, I begin sliding off the fish chunks and stuffing them into my mouth, letting the fishy flavour imbue my mouth and tickle my taste buds.

I gobble down the first skewer in seconds and as I make a grab for the second, a blast of light suddenly explodes into the cave.

My head spins around in shock, my stomach flips as I stare at the open entrance of the cave.

The girl stands before me, a smug smile on her face and her handmade, but sharp looking, spear pointed in my direction.

We both stare at each other for a moment, then the girl speaks.

"Well, well, well. Just as I thought" She says slyly. "Like the present I left for you, eh?"

My eyes flicker to the skewers of fish, then back to her.

"I thought you might be hungry" She continues. "Wasn't sure whether you'd be stupid enough to fall for it"

She glances at the bare stick. "Looks like you aren't quite as clever as you thought you were. See, I knew that my crossbow had gone and that my supplies has been rooted through. Then, when I saw the knife in the back of that bird, I knew I wasn't alone"

She grins at me. "Oh, thanks for saving my life by the way, it was so kind of you. I must also thank you for giving me the knife, I would have never made this spear if it weren't for that"

I gulp as she steps forwards, the point of the spear reaching closer to my neck.

"Now, if you don't mind, I wish to continue my meal" She gestures towards the fish. "I would say join me, but what is company when its lying in a pool of blood?"

Knowing that I have seconds before she pierces my neck, quickly roll over and snatch up the crossbow. The girl lunges forwards, but misses me by quite a bit and I manage to shoot a bolt at the spear, slicing it in half.

The girl looks at her splintered weapon in horror and now realising that she's weapon less, begins to back away. But I'm much quicker and leap to my feet, pinning her against the rocky wall by the point of my crossbow.

She lets out a short gasp. Her face is drained white, her eyes widen with fear and stare at the bow that is inches from her chest.

"Please don't" She coughs. "Don't kill me"

"Why not? You were going to do the same to me" I point out.

"I'm sorry, I was just angry that you were following me" She says hoarsely. "Please don't kill me"

"Give me three reasons why I shouldn't"

She gulps. "Um, because I've never done anything to you"

"You tried to kill me"

"But I didn't, did I?" She says. "Also, you saved me from that bird instead of letting me die"

"And?"

She stares into my eyes.

"You don't have it in you to kill me. Or you would have done it ages ago"

My finger tenses on the trigger as I look into her face.

Her wide eyes are full with truth and honesty. A few minutes ago, she was ready to kill me. But now, it's the other way round. I have reduced her confidence to a shell and now all she seems is just another innocent child, scared and lost. I used to be like that too. And I know how it feels to be at the bottom; I was there when my mother passed away. I remember how much I wished for something to cling onto and how close I was to losing. It was the worst feeling in my life and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else.

I lift my finger off the trigger.

"You're right. I don't have it in me" I whisper. "And neither do you"

Elodie Torelli, District 9 POV

A gentle shake on my shoulder stirs me from my slumber. My dreams evaporate into the back of my mind as my eyelids flutter open.

"Wakey wakey, sleepy head" Zephyr smiles warmly at me. "I have some good news"

Yawning, I stretch out my arms and sit up, leaning back on the wall for support.

"What's the good news?" I ask. "Have the Gamemakers decided to cancel this year's Hunger Games and take us all home?"

"Not exactly" Zephyr frowns. "But I think you'll like it"

"What is it then?"

Zephyr grins as he pulls out a small cylinder container and a wrapped up package. When he removes the lid from the container, swirls of steam escape and I feel myself gasping.

"Oh my gosh... is that?" I stare at the container.

"Yup" Zephyr nods. "Steaming hot soup straight from the Capitol, accompanied by a side of crusty bread"

He passes the soup and bread to me and I look down at it in disbelief. "No way, it can't be"

"It can be when you have sponsors" Zephyr says. "Arrived about half an hour ago"

"We have _sponsors_?" I gasp, barely able to register it.

"Yup. It seems that people out there actually like us" Zephyr says.

"Like you, you mean" I say.

"Not just me, us. They like us"

"But everyone likes you more than me anyway. Who says that this soup isn't just for you?"

"I do. It's for both of us, trust me" Zephyr says. "Now, eat up. I've already had my share"

Knowing I've lost, as usual, I give in and rip off a piece of bread, dunking it into the soup. As I pop it into my mouth, the taste and texture of the soggy bread makes me sigh in bliss. I never thought that something as simple as soup and bread could taste so good, yet it fills me with such satisfaction that I find myself lapping up the food in minutes.

Once the last gulp full of thick soup slides down my throat, I greedily start wiping my fingers around the rim of the container, collecting any drops of leftover broth. There's not much left, but I still get enough to make the taste in my mouth last for longer. But once it's all completely gone, every last molecule, I sigh and screw the lid back on.

Zephyr takes it from me, placing it into our bag.

"Might come in handy at some point" He explains.

"Good idea" I say with admiration.

Closing my eyes, I slouch into the fairly uncomfortable wall, feeling well fed. The warmness of the soup has left my stomach feeling tingly and full. Not something I often feel, or would feel after a small portion of broth. But food is scarce in the Games, so something like that is a luxury and should be eaten with gratitude.

"Hey, where did you say you found the gift?" I open my eyes and turn to Zephyr, who's fiddling with the supplies.

"In the window" He answers without looking up.

I get to my feet, forgetting about my sprained ankle and getting a horrid shock when I put weight on it.

"Ouch" I say, as a sharp crackle of pain shoots through my ankle.

"Ankle still bad?" Zephyr asks and I nod in reply.

Doing my best to avoid falling over, I limp to the window, gritting my teeth every time a dart of pain comes. I make it across without toppling over, how I'm not too sure, and lean with relief on the wall.

Peering my head around, I glance out of the window, just in case someone happens to be walking past. Of course, no-one does, because the window faces the fence, and behind it, the woods. It's not a pretty view, in fact it's quite creepy, but it'll do.

Gentle with my ankle, I shuffle myself onto the window ledge and stare outside. There's no glass in the window, just an empty space and the cool breeze of the dropping temperature wafting in, chilling my cheek. It's not cold yet, but I bet it will be by night. Freezing probably.

Blocking out the occasional grunts for Zephyr, I lose myself in the sounds of the evening. Soft cooing of nesting birds, mumbles from within the dark cluster of trees and the gentle wind stroking the stone walls of the house. Letting my eyelids fall closed, I listen to the sounds of nature, letting it soothe my tense body and slowing my breathing. I could fall asleep, the only thing keeping me awake being the infrequent shiver down my spine.

The familiar feel of the ledge is so comforting. It almost feels like the one at home in my bedroom, except a little harder and colder. But it's close enough. And sitting here is the closest I'll probably get to being home again. Because, of course, I won't ever be home again. I always knew that, right from the moment my name was read out at the reaping. I never had the slimmest glimmer of hope; I didn't even believe I had a one in twenty-four chance.

"There is a chance, Elodie" Zephyr suddenly says.

I look over to him. "What do you mean?"

"You might still go home"

I stare at him, shocked for a second. "How did you...?"

He grins slightly. "Twin connection. I can tell when you're worried about something and I figured that it was about home"

"Who says it's got anything to do with that?" I say.

"How can it not be? You're sitting on the window ledge, like you do at home"

"Did" I correct.

He frowns at me. "That hasn't been confirmed yet. You're still alive"

I laugh sarcastically. "Please Zephyr, we both know I'm going to die sooner or later. Probably sooner. You're living in a world that doesn't exist"

He looks taken aback.

"You can't think like that, I won't let you" He stands up. "You have as much as a chance as anyone has"

I roll my eyes. "No I don't. You're just saying that because you're my brother"

"That's not true. Whatever I say, I believe it"

"Well. believe this: I'm not going home"

Zephyr runs his hand through his tawny hair. "I'm not hearing this, and I'm certainly not believing it"

"Oh grow up Zephyr" I snap. "Get your head out of the clouds and back down to reality. This is the Hunger Games, not high school. People die in here, Zeph, twenty-three die. And you just need to stop pretending and get to grips with the fact that I'm going to be one of them"

He doesn't speak for a few moments, the expression on his face shows that he's both surprised and hurt by my sudden change of tone.

"Elodie..." He begins.

"No Zephyr, don't patronize me" I cut him off. "I don't want to believe in something that's not real"

"So you're basically saying that you want to embrace your near death" He says.

I shrug. "You could say that"

He shakes his head, looking away and losing eye contact. "I don't know why I even bother. You just throw it all back in my face"

"I didn't ask you to volunteer" I remark.

"I wanted to"

"Why? So you could pretend to be the hero?"

His jaw sets still, his eyes meet mine briefly, then turn away in disgust. He says nothing, keeps a calm mood and walks away to the other side of the room.

"Zephyr" I say his name, but he ignores me entirely.

"Zeph, look, I'm..." I begin, getting up from the window ledge.

As I adjust my stance, so that I'm not pressurising my ankle, a sudden surge knocks me off balance. My hand shoots back, catching my near fall and the weight of my body onto one hand causes a sharp crack in my wrist. I don't have time to say ouch, as a second, harder vibration rocks the building, barely seconds after the first.

Alarmed at the quake, which had given no indication of its arrival, I look over to Zephyr. He's on the floor, his head bowed down as he crouches on his hands and knees. I can't tell whether he's hurt or not, but by the looks of it, I'd guess he was a little shaken, but alright.

"Zephyr!" I try to call him over the sound of the savage rumbling, but my words are lost and turned to dust.

I pull myself off the wall, stumbling to try to get to my brother. With each step, my head spins and I have to gulp to hold down the vomit. The building tremors around me, my vision wobbles and Zephyr turns into three people. My ankle throbs as I try to keep walking, but a third and final shake forces me backwards again.

My arm reaches out to catch myself, but this time the wall isn't there. My hand pushes through thin air and my body falls back into an empty space.

Desperately terrified, I try to grab hold of something, but all my fingers grasp is cold air. There's nothing around me and it takes me a second to realise that I'm no longer in the house. I'm outside it.

The stone grey walls scroll past my eyes as gravity takes its toll. I try to scream but my lips are sealed together with an invisible glue and all I can do is stare in horror at the world flowing by.

And then the world stops and the blurs turn to darkness.

Luna Damion, District 11 POV

I stare into the lustrous flames, watching the vivid sparks of yellow spit over the body of flickering orange. I don't stir, even when the fire spits at me and lands with a small fizz on my trouser leg. I just gaze into the luminosity, losing myself in the ongoing glow. The flames are like dancers, leaping about in an elegant fashion, their long locks of golden and auburn hair flowing freely behind them.

"Luna" Something pokes my shoulder and I dissolve out of my trance.

I shake my head back into reality and look to see who poked me.

It was Heidi. She stands holding two chunks of browned meat, one held out to me. I smile and take it.

"Thanks"

"No problem. Dunno what it tastes like, but it looks ok. It's been cooked long enough not to poison us" Heidi shrugs, eyeing up the meat, before sighing and biting into it.

I watch her chew the meat slowly, then swallow hard. "It's a bit chewy..."

"How does it taste?" I ask, wanting to know before I take a bite myself.

Heidi frowns, swallows another small bite and replies. "Bland. Very bland. Could do with some herbs or something, but it's not disgusting"

I nod. "Well, we're not expecting a gourmet meal like at the Capitol"

"Ugh, how I would pay for one of those beef casseroles, with the potatoes that melt in your mouth and the rich, thick sauce" Heidi groans.

"Don't, it's too cruel. Please don't get started, I'm already hungry enough" I beg. "I don't wish to be reminded of what real food tastes like"

"Darling, this is real food" Heidi adopts a Capitol accent. "Straight from the finest butchers in all of Panem"

I laugh and try to imitate her tone. "It looks simply divine; not a trace of fat or carbs, perfect for my Hunger Games diet"

I take a small nibble of the meat and ignore the fact that it tastes so plain you'd think you were eating chewed up cardboard. "Tastes absolutely delicious as well"

Heidi gives a soft, polite cough. "And does madam wish for some wine to accompany her meal?"

I nod gratefully. "Madam would adore some wine"

Heidi gives a little curtsey and totters off to the supplies corner, where everything we own is piled in a rather unkempt heap. She pulls out our flask of water and pours a small amount into two smaller bottles. She then takes a few berries we picked earlier, which Heidi informed us were not poisonous, and crushes them in her hands, dripping the juice into the water.

Carrying them like she was an Avox waitress, she hands me a bottle.

"Your wine, madam" She smiles.

"Why thank you" I take a sip and I'm pleasantly surprised as it actually tastes quite nice. "Ooh, this is quite tasty actually"

Heidi looks a little surprised. "Really?"

She takes a gulp herself and looks at me. "Wow, it does"

Our Capitol accents drop as we compliment Heidi's drink making skills.

"Hey, stuff the nurse dream, I could be a barmaid" Heidi snorts, gulping down her drink.

I laugh and drown mine in one huge swig. Feeling quite satisfied and pleased, I clink the bottle down on the floor.

"That was quite pleasurable" I say.

"What was quite pleasurable?" Rhea walks into the room. Her face looks a little red and patchy, as if she's been crying or something.

I frown, but don't know whether to say anything. I don't want to ask her and then feel bad if she hasn't been crying; it may sound like I think she's weak or something. But on the other hand, she might have been upset and as a friend, I should comfort her.

Stuck in the middle, I decide to stay silent for a while and let Heidi talk instead.

"I've just made us a lovely wine" Heidi tells her, a proud grin on her face.

"Wine?" Rhea looks puzzled.

"Well, not exactly wine as such..." Heidi frowns. "But I squeezed some berry juice into the water and-"

"Berry juice?!" Rhea says suddenly, her tone sounding a little agitated.

"Um, from the berries we picked..." Heidi says quietly.

"You mean the berries in the forest that we have a limited supply of?!"

"Erm...yes?"

"You just wasted them by squeezing their tiny amounts of juice into some perfectly normal water?!"

"We can just get some more tomorrow..."

"No we can't! This is the Hunger Games, Heidi! And it's a Quell! We can't just go and get some more berries; they'll either be gone by morning or will be replaced with poisonous ones as a trick!" Rhea yells. "Or did you forget that they're trying to kill us? And what would be an easier way than to poison us with berries we thought were safe? I thought you were supposed to be good at survival, Heidi!"

"Rhea..." I begin.

"Don't 'Rhea' me, Luna!" She snaps.

My frown deepens and I look over to Heidi. Her face is still with shock, her mouth unable to produce words. She looks different to the Heidi I know and so, I find myself standing up to Rhea.

"No, Rhea" I say firmly. "You can't speak to her like that"

Rhea turns to me and as she looks me in the eyes, her face drops and I swear a tear trickle down her cheek.

"I'm...I'm sorry" Her voice quivers and she falls to the floor in a flood of tears.

Heidi and I both rush over to her, putting comforting arms around her shaking body.

"Rhea, what's wrong?" Heidi says.

Rhea shakes her head in denial. "It's nothing... I was just upset about snapping at you like that"

"It's ok, Rhea. You are allowed to snap now and again. We are in the Hunger Games; it's pretty emotional stuff" Heidi says, sounding like a counsellor.

I nod. "Yes, she's right. You can't hold in all of your emotions. I mean, look at Heidi, she's your prime example of releasing emotions"

Heidi shoots me a glare, but a soft one, I know she doesn't mean it in an angry way.

Rhea gives a little laugh. "I wasn't that bad, was I?"

"Not quite; Heidi is still the record holder" I say.

"Hey! Will you two stop picking on me?" Heidi says, half laughing. "This is supposed to be Rhea time"

Rhea looks up. "No thanks, I'm good"

Heidi raises her eyebrows expectantly. "No, you are not good. And you will tell us what's really wrong, because you can't think that we didn't notice your bloodshot eyes when you came in earlier"

Rhea looks to the floor. "That was nothing"

"Of course it was something" Heidi insists. "You don't cry over nothing"

"Yes, Rhea. Please talk to us; we're your friends and we're worried about you" I add.

Rhea sniffs, but stays in defiance. "I don't like to talk about emotions and stuff. I'm supposed to be the strong one here"

Heidi coughs sharply. "Enough of this nonsense. You will tell us exactly what's on your mind, or we'll...we'll...we'll..."

"Chop your hands off" I suggest.

Heidi nods seriously. "Yes. We will saw both of your hands off using one of our knives"

Rhea looks over to the small pile of weapons and sighs. "Fine, I'll tell you. But only to stop you from nagging me...and also, I believe that you _would _chop off my hands, and honestly, I'd rather keep them"

Heidi smiles and crosses her legs, seemingly getting comfortable for Rhea's confessions. I bet she used to do this back in Twelve, she strikes me as the sort of person people would come to for advice, or simply just to spread gossip.

Rhea takes a deep breath and begins. "Well, I was sitting outside and I saw-"

An unannounced reverberation cuts her off mid-sentence. The rumbling sound is accompanied with a series of sharp jolts in the ground, which shakes my body like a rag doll.

I can make out Heidi screaming faintly, but everything else is out powered by the earth's sound. I clasp my hands over my ears and squeeze my eyes shut until after, what seems like a lifetime, the vibrations stop and the air falls silent again.

"Guys, what just happened?" I ask worriedly.

"It felt like an earthquake to me" Rhea says, frowning.

"It was horrible" Heidi squeaks, uncurling herself from her balled position.

"Maybe we should get out of here, it'll probably come again and we don't want the building to collapse on top of us. It doesn't look strong enough to stay put" Rhea suggests, getting up to her feet.

"Good idea" I say, taking her offering and being helped up to my feet.

I turn and offer my hand out to Heidi, who grips it tightly as I heave her up. Just as she gets on her feet, another surge rocks the ground. Heidi screams again and clutches onto my arms, trying to keep balanced. We stand, frozen to the spot, to keep stable, but Rhea starts to walk away.

Her feet wobble as she treads carefully over to the pile of supplies, well it's hardly a pile now as everything has been scattered across the floor after the first quake.

"Rhea! Be careful!" I try to call to her, but my words can't reach her over the deep droning.

Me and Heidi watch intensively as Rhea plots her steps cautiously, stopping every now and then to regain balance. She manages to reach the bags and starts to pick up the odd few items that lie stray on the floor around her. She starts to struggle as the items roll around the floor, untamed. It's like they're deliberately teasing her and laughing at her as they slide out of her grasp.

"We've got to help her" I mouth to Heidi.

She looks pale, but nods anyway. After all, we're in an alliance and helping each other is what we do.

"Together?" She mouths.

"Together" I confirm and we take each other's hands and start walking slowly towards Rhea.

We establish a sort of pattern as we walk, counting the seconds before we step and continuing on in a simultaneous fashion. Eventually, we get the hang of it and pick up our speed, reaching Rhea just as the shaking stops.

"Oh, thank god it stopped. I thought my ear drums were gonna explode" Heidi breathes in relief.

"I'm glad it's stopped so I can pick up all the supplies; the bottles are rolling everywhere" Rhea says, scrambling on her knees after one.

"We'll help now" I say. "A bag each"

The two girls nod and we take a bag.

We manage to scrape up all of our supplies just as the next wave of the quake comes. This time, Heidi doesn't scream, which surprises me. I guess she was expecting it.

As the walls shake furiously around us, large cracks start to form in the stone and dust starts to leak from the ceiling.

"This place is falling down around us!" Rhea yells, loud enough so we can just about hear her over the sound of a collapsing ceiling.

Heidi yelps as a chunk of stone falls beside her, missing her by inches. She then turns and sprints for the door, not even waiting for us. I glance at Rhea and we both chase after her, blocks of building falling behind us as we run.

We reach the door and throw ourselves out into the evening, landing with a hard thud on the solid and dusty ground. A huge crash comes from the building and I turn my neck to see the rest of it come down to the ground in a violent protest.

And then the crash is followed by a canon.

Panic hits me and I stumble to my feet. Rhea is sitting up, rubbing her arm and Heidi is standing shakily on her feet.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Did you guys here the canon?" Rhea asks, joining us on her feet.

Heidi and I both nod.

"Who'd you reckon it was?" I ask.

Heidi shrugs. "I dunno, but I hope it was a Career"

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. It's almost dark now" I say, looking up at the dying sunset.

"It'll be pitch black soon" Rhea says. "We'd better find somewhere to sleep. We're right out in the open now"

"Yeah, I'm feeling tired already" Heidi yawns. "Earthquakes are exhausting"

"Right... Well I suggest we go behind the house and follow the fence; it's our best way of navigation" Rhea says, walking ahead.

Me and Heidi fall in step behind her.

I dare not look back, I can't bare to look at our crumbled home. I know it wasn't really a home, but it was the closest thing we had. It was a shelter, a hideout; a place to eat, sleep and even laugh. The jokes we made when we were bored are buried under that rubble.

I notice too late that Rhea has stopped and I crash into the back of her. She trips forward, but manages to stay on her feet.

"Sorry" I apologise.

Rhea doesn't acknowledge me, neither does Heidi when I poke her shoulder.

"Guys... what's wrong?" I say, stepping out in front of them, then freezing myself.

A gasp escapes my mouth.

I can see what made them stop. I can see what took the words right out of their mouths.

A girl. A dead girl.

"I think we've just found out who the canon was for" Rhea finally speaks, her tense body loosening again.

"Who is she?" Heidi peers at the girl.

"I think she's the girl from Nine" Rhea says. "Can't remember her name though"

I stare at the body. At the girl's distorted face and mangled limbs. A name comes to my head.

"Elodie" I say quietly.

Heidi and Rhea turn their heads.

"Oh, that's her name" Rhea says. "Wasn't she the one with a twin brother or something?"

"Zephyr" I whisper.

"What?"

"Zephyr"

And saying his name, I take off.

I run round the front of the building, find the door and push it open with such force that I fall in. Picking myself up, I scan around the room. It's empty. Stone, cold empty.

Until I notice the small set of stairs in the corner.

I race up them, two steps at a time. When I reach the next floor, my heart is thumping and I look desperately around the upstairs. This time, it's not empty. A bag of supplies sits on the floor, a spear leant on the top.

My eyes leave the bag and trace up to the gap in the wall that I'm guessing is a window. And then I notice him.

He's crouched in a corner, his knees brought up to his chest and his head bowed. Dust sprinkles over his curled body like icing sugar on a cake and small whimpers come from his muffled mouth and bounce from the walls.

I walk cautiously towards him, my steps light and silent. He doesn't know I'm here until I'm knelt beside him.

"Zephyr?" I whisper his name.

His head lifts up and he looks at me with wide brown eyes. He looks young, so young and ever so vulnerable. Tears stain his dusted face and trickle down his cheeks.

Without really thinking, I rest my hand on his back, rubbing it softly to comfort him. He flinches at first, but makes no attempt to stop me and continues crying.

His sobs and trembling body remind me of Ivy. Whenever she used to cry, which was almost every night, I would always hold her in my arms and rock her gently, until she'd finally fall asleep. Like a mother would do. Well, I am a mother figure to her.

And now, I feel my maternal instincts kick in once again and I find myself pulling Zephyr towards my body and holding him like I would with Ivy.

"Shh, it'll be alright" I whisper to him. "Everything will be ok"

He sniffles and nuzzles into my chest, but his sobs quieten. I rub my hand up and down his back, soothing him until he stops shaking.

I squeeze my eyes shut and a tear rolls down my cheek, landing with a tiny splash on Zephyr's head.

* * *

**A/N- Dun dun dun...! Haha, I didn't warn you about the death, did I? Well yes, it is official. The first death since the bloodbath went to dearest Elodie Torelli. I am sorry if you liked her, but these things happen in the Games :/**

**Ok, so... question time! Obviously, what are your thoughts about Elodie's death, did it surprise you? Secondly, do you think Tal loves Bryn? What do you think about Phosphorus and Layla, will they team up? And finally, what about Luna, what do you think will happen next?**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter (even if you loved Elodie) and thanks to all readers and reviewers! It was nice to have a few new reviewers las chapter, so maybe we can get a few more with this one too! Keep reading and reviewing as always :P**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	18. Outsiders: Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**A/N- Oops. I didn't realise that it is like two weeks since the last update... Sorry. I'd hate to become one of those people that hardly updates :( Hopefully you're not all annoyed with me :(**

**Yes, I have excuses, but they're excusable! Firstly, it was my sister's birthday the other week, so I was busy then. Secondly, I have just started rehearsals for South Pacific (yay). And thirdly, it was my friend's birthday over the weekend, so I was sleeping over and all that jazzle. So yup. Not much time. But it is done now, so enjoy xxx**

* * *

Alice, (Fickle's adopted Mom) POV

The house has been quiet since the day of the reaping. Doors seem to creak more, floorboards moan more, windows rattle more. The rooms seem empty and shallow, whispers echoing down the landing and stairs. An odd feeling just lingers in the muggy air. Everything has slowed down, silenced.

But the strange thing is, Fickle was never a loud boy. In fact, he was the complete opposite. Always drifting about, head in a book, unaware of his surroundings. He barely spoke, only when he had to. Lewis and I would often go hours without seeing Fickle. There would be days when all he did was sit in his room, staring into limitless space, his face displaying no emotions. And then there were other days, where he'd be a bundle of joy, bouncing around the place with his large eyes full of excitement. Those days were rare. But overall, he was silent. Hardly a peep. And yet, the house seems quieter.

I swipe the fragments of dust from the cabinet, watching as the small specks flutter to the wooden floor, before being swept swiftly out the door. I continue the routine in silence; dusting and sweeping, dusting and sweeping; until footsteps in the hallway distract me.

Lewis, my husband, stands with his greying eyebrows knitted in a disapproving frown.

"Cleaning again, Alice?" He sighs. "Isn't the house clean enough?"

I wipe the cabinet with the feather duster once more. "There's still some dust"

"No there isn't" Lewis comes beside me. "You're just pretending there is so you have an excuse to do housework"

"No I'm not" I avoid his gaze, concentrating on cleaning the cabinet.

"Alice" Lewis's hand stops mine. "This isn't helping you"

I turn to him. "What do you mean?"

He sighs. "I'm saying that doing the housework isn't going to take your mind off Fickle. You can't keep cleaning forever in the hope that you'll never have the time to remember what happened"

I let go of the broom and let it freefall to the ground. I know he's right.

"But if I don't keep myself busy; then my thoughts will eat me alive" I say desperately. "I need to do something with myself; I can't mope around all day, every day"

"I know, you need something to focus on, other than the state of the house" Lewis says gently.

"But what?" I ask. "I've tried knitting, but that just reminds me of Fickle's bobble hat I made for him last winter. And I've tried reading, but I can't focus on the words; they're all just a blur to me now"

"What about the shop?" Lewis suggests.

My eyes look to the floor. "I can't"

"But why not, Alice? Why not?" Lewis says, lifting my chin.

I look into his kind blue eyes and whisper, "I can't face them. Not yet"

"Oh Alice" Lewis wraps his arms around me and says quietly into my ear. "You can't hide forever. One day you have to face up to what happened and what is time is better than the present?"

Sighing, I pull back and look at him. "You're right. As always..."

He flashes me a weak smile.

"I'll go and open the shop, shall I?" I say, throwing down the feather duster with satisfaction.

Lewis looks pleased. "Yes, go and open up; we have customers to serve"

With a brief smile, I swoop my hand down, open up the cabinet and grab the keys to the shop. The familiar feeling of the cold metal keys in my palm gives me a surge of ambition.

"Right, I'll be off to the study then" Lewis says, adjusting his dainty frames. "Have a good afternoon"

"And you" I say, then turn and walk briskly out the door.

The warm air hits my face like a brick wall. The taste of fresh oxygen is overwhelming that I have to stand still for a moment, taking it all in. I haven't left the house since the reaping; the walls of the old building acting like a jail cell, but my mind keeping me from finding the key to escape.

I'd gotten used to the feeling of claustrophobia, and I wished not to escape it. But standing outside once again, I realise how foolish I was. Fickle wouldn't have wanted me to spend the rest of my life inside, hiding from the world. No, he would have wanted me to get on with life. Even though he never said it, I'm sure he thought it.

The door clicks as I turn the key and a waft of old recognisable smells greet me. I take a step inside the shop and close my eyes. I don't need to see with my eyes, I can operate the whole store without sight. Everything is always in the same place, nothing has changed since the day I first opened it. Every single thing.

I find the counter with ease and wipe a finger across the surface. I open my eyes and examine my finger tip. A thin layer of grey dust coats the skin and I tut in disapproval.

"Goodness me, Alice" I mutter to myself. "This just won't do"

I go behind the counter and find a cloth on one of the shelves. I then begin attacking the counter, abolishing every threatening speck of dust and sending it packing.

Once the counter is shining and new, I start on the sweeping, shooing out every clump of powdered dirt and working until the floor is spotless.

I wipe my brow with the back of my hand and smile to myself. Lewis may have stopped me from cleaning the house, but he can't stop me from cleaning the shop.

I return the broom and walk confidently over to the door. With a deep breath, I spin the sign around so that it displays _open_.

As I return to the counter, I hear the common sound of the door swinging open, followed by light footsteps.

"Alice! How lovely to see the shop open again" The voice of my friend, Mable, meets my ears.

I spin around and see her walking towards me, her arms held wide for a hug. I smile as she lands to soft kisses on my cheeks and tells me how well I'm looking.

"I've got to say I've been worried about you, Alice" Mable says. "Hidden away in that house for all that time, it's not healthy"

"I know, Mable. But I just couldn't deal with anything more than housework" I say.

Mable pulls a face of pity. "It must be hard for you. Has Lewis been the same?"

"He has his ups and downs" I shrug. "Some days he's quite normal, and others he just sits in his study all day. He's been spending a lot of time in there"

"And you? How are you feeling?"

"So and so" I admit. "It has been a shock to me and I find some days harder than others. But, I'm alright as long as I keep busy"

Mable nods understandably. "And have you been sleeping?"

I shake my head. "Not much at all. Just little bits here and there"

Mable rubs my arm comfortingly. "It will get better, trust me. Look, I must dash, Bernard has got an awful cough which needs attending, so I'd better not keep him waiting. I'll pop over later, shall I? And I'll bring some of my nettle tea"

"Ok, I'll see you later then" I say as she leaves the shop. "And send my love to Bernard"

She sends me one last smile and closes the door. Then she's gone and I'm back feeling alone.

I can feel the thoughts bubbling inside, so I quickly assign myself to some stock rotation. I'm halfway through the second shelf when the door opens and someone enters the store.

I know who it is before I even look, as a scratchy voice fills the air.

"Ah, I see you are alive then"

The word alive makes me wince, but I don't let it bother me too much as I continue sorting the shelf.

"Oh, hello Matilda" I say with as little enthusiasm as I can manage.

I hear her footsteps as she paces around the shop floor; probably inspecting it, knowing Matilda. Looking for something to pick at, gossip about when she leaves.

"Come for anything in particular?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"Just some wool" She says. "I'm planning on making a blanket for Dillie's new baby"

I finish the stocking and walk over to the counter.

"Wool?" I repeat. "I didn't know you were into knitting"

Matilda shrugs. "I wasn't, but with the new baby and all that, I thought that maybe I should start. In fact, I was thinking about knitting a nice little hat for the winter. You know, one with a bobble"

I bite my lip. The mention of a bobble hat threatens to bring tears to my eyes. I made Fickle a bobble hat last winter. He refused to wear it though; said he preferred his cap, but kept it on his coat peg anyway. Even though he didn't wear it, it was nice to see it hanging by his coat everyday. I guess maybe he preferred to look at it, rather than wear it.

I keep the tears back as Matilda rummages through the box of knitting wool.

"So, how are things with you anyway?" Matilda asks, not looking up.

"I'm coping" I reply shortly.

"Can't be easy" She says. "My sister lost her son when he was thirteen. She's near enough sixty now and still hasn't got over it, been about twenty years now since his death. But I suppose it won't be as hard for you"

I frown. "What do you mean?"

Matilda shrugs. "Well, it's not like Fickle was your proper son or anything. And you've only had him what, three years?"

A stabbing pain plunges inside me. A rush of anger comes through me and I find myself unable t hold back for any longer.

"You ignorant little cow" I spit. "How dare you come into my shop, acting all smug with your little comments and then start accusing me of loving my son less than any other mother!"

Matilda looks startled, but is too shocked to speak.

"You swan in here, start bragging about your new grandson, talking about knitting little hats, pretending to be all innocent, when inside, you know exactly what your doing. You're deliberately rubbing my face in the fact that everyone is all well in your family, when I've just lost my son" I say, my teeth gritted. "And then, because you're a sly cow, you just have to point out that he wasn't my biological son"

"But it's true" Matilda sneers. "You just found him on the streets"

"But that makes no difference!" I raise my voice. "I loved that little boy as much as any mother loves their son! And to have him taken away from me was the most traumatic experience I've ever had to endure. It was even worse than finding out that I was infertile, at least then I hadn't lost something. But having my chance to be a mother given to me, then snatched away cruelly is the worst feeling in the whole world"

Matilda is speechless, lost for words as she stands awkwardly in the doorway.

"That's it, be off with yer!" I shout at her. "Leave now and stay away from me! Do you hear? If I ever see your pathetic, prune face again, I swear down that I will rip your head off your wrinkly neck!"

And with a huff of dignity, Matilda storms out the shop, slamming the door behind her.

And once the room falls silent again, I crumble to the floor in floods of tears.

Elina, (Horacio's crush) POV

I stroke my hand gently over the thick body of the cow, it's rough hide dry against my fingers. The weather is hot, the sun burning down on us, causing my skin to dampen with sweat. The blistering heat is nice on occasion, where we can splash in the cool river water and take shade beneath trees, but it also has it's disadvantages. For example, the heat often evaporates some of the water supplies, often allowing cattle to go with little amounts of fluid. Today is one of those days and I can see the dehydration in the cow's eyes, it's body crying out for more water.

"I know you're thirsty, Lotus" I say to the cow, rubbing her head softly. "I'll try and get you some water from the river, but it will take me a little while"

Lotus moos like she's grateful and I tickle behind one of her dry ears.

"That's a good, patient girl" I say. "I'll take you back over to the herd so I can go, ok?"

Lotus doesn't say anything; well, of course she wouldn't, she's a cow. But even still, I often find myself talking to her. She's the most patient of the cows, and how ever weird it may sound, she's the most easy to talk to. All the others walk away, more interested in eating the grass than to listen to my worries. But Lotus? Although she may not speak, I feel like she understands me and sometimes, even seems to guide me in the right direction. Then again, I might be imagining it, after all, she's just a cow.

"You don't understand me, do you?" I let out a small laugh as I walk along with Lotus.

She doesn't make a sound, the only noises being her hooves scraping against the patchy field. Well, what's left of it anyway. Most of the grass has died out or been eaten, leaving behind flaky mud and soil. The cows will be moved to another field soon, where new grass will be waiting for them, and so to give time for this field to regrow and mature.

We reach the herd, clusters of cattle chewing on the last clumps of grass and basking in the summer heat. I walk Lotus over to the middle of the gathering, give her a pat on the head and whisper in her ear.

"I'll be back as soon as I can"

And then, I turn and walk away from the herd.

I trek across the damaged field up to the fence. Stepping up onto the lowest beam of wood, I swing myself over the fence and land lightly on the other side. I never really use the gate, it's a little further down and I can't be bothered walking down there. Besides, it's much more fun to climb over the short fence.

I head down the dusted path, pass a few farmhouses until I reach my house. The fifth in the row. There's seven in total and we all share the field and cattle. Thirty cows between seven families. It's alright I suppose, but one day I'd like to have my own herd. My Dad often says that he's going to get a promotion and buy a field of our own. He says we could take Lotus and that I'd be her carer. That she'd be my cow. My own cow. Doesn't sound exciting really, but to me it means a lot. Being one of the furthest districts, we're not that rich, quite poor actually, so owning a whole cow when you're only sixteen is pretty impressive.

Walking up to the back door, I turn the handle. The door opens as I push my side into it, letting out it's usual low moan. I kick it shut with my foot and walk further into the old kitchen.

Rooting in one of the low cupboards, I find two metal buckets. I take them with me as I tread through the house and go out the front door.

Closing the door behind me, I start walking in the direction of the river, a bucket in each hand.

Along the way I pass Mr and Mrs Francis, Horacio's parents. They look different, like their life has been drained from them and they walk with their heads down. It takes me a moment to realise what's wrong. Horacio was reaped. And died two days ago.

I can see the emptiness on their faces, the way they walk with their feet dragging along the dry floor and the way they keep their white lips tight together.

"Good morning, Mr and Mrs Francis" I say politely as they walk past.

Mr Francis manages a weak, but grateful smile, while Mrs Francis stays looking glum.

"And to you, Elina" He says.

"I'm sorry about Horacio" I automatically say without thinking.

Straight after saying it, I wish I didn't.

"He was a good lad" Mr Francis nods. "Didn't deserve it"

I stand awkwardly, not really sure what to say in reply.

"Oh sorry, Elina" Mr Francis says, snapping out of his moment. "I shouldn't be talking like this to you, I'm sure you're very busy"

"Oh, it's ok, Mr Francis" I say in a hurry.

"Please, call me Jerric" He says, resting a hand on my shoulder. "I'm very grateful for how you helped Horacio"

I feel my cheeks blushing.

"I know about how you've stood up for him in the past. He needed someone like you"

"Oh, erm Mr Francis, I mean Jerric; it was nothing"

"It may not seem like that to you, but it was everything to him"

And saying that, he lifts his hand from my shoulder and walks off with his wife.

I stand still for a moment, registering the conversation. It takes me a few minutes before I remember about the water and I hurry off, the soles of my boots hitting the floor solidly.

I run all the way down to the river and when I reach the water's edge, I throw down the buckets and plunge my hands into the water. Scooping up some water, I splash it over my face, both cooling and refreshing my skin.

As the water soaks my face, I hear some laughter from across the river. I lift up my head and look ahead.

Across the way is a group of teenagers, all around my age. I recognise them all and they soon notice me.

"Hey! Elina!" One of the boys calls over. "Come hang with us!"

I look at the empty buckets, then back to the group.

"Ok! Give me one sec and I'll be over!" I call back, getting to my feet.

Leaving the buckets by the side of the river, I run along to the stone crossing. Several rocks have been wedged into the river's bed, providing a way across. They've been there since I was little, probably before I was born. There is a bridge, but it's rather run down and is a little way down, nearer the town.

I step onto the first rock and adjust my footing, before bringing my other foot on. I stride onto the next rock and the one after. I've done this a thousand times before; I could probably do it backwards, or with my eyes shut. The water flows slowly past, steadily moving onwards. People say the river is still at night, but that's a lie. The river is always moving, always changing. Some people are just too blind to see it.

I'm standing on the last rock now, the bank within jumping range. It's further than the others, too long to step across, but not too long to jump.

The teens look up and wave to me. I wave back, smiling.

"Hey, you gonna jump that?" A lad named Ryn asks. "Or are we gonna have to push you in?"

I laugh. "Nah, I'm gonna jump it thanks"

Taking a small step back, I launch myself into the air and leap across the swirling waters. I land with a small thud on the grassy bank.

"Nice jump" A voice comes from behind me.

I spin around and see a head poking from the water.

"Tah, Tristan" I say, walking up and joining the rest of the group.

"Hey, Elina" A boy with blond hair, plastered against his forehead, smiles at me.

"Hi, Quinn" I sit down beside him, stretching my long legs out in front of me.

"You alright?" Quinn asks.

"Feeling hot" I admit, wafting my hand in front of my face and creating a tiny breeze that doesn't make a difference.

"Looking hot too" He winks and I raise an eyebrow.

The girl next to him, Mollie, looks annoyed and pulls Quinn towards her. I turn away as she practically snogs his face off, much to his enjoyment.

"Eww, please don't" I say, pulling a face.

Ryn laughs. "Just let 'em get on with it while the rest of us have some real fun"

"Real fun?" I ask.

"Yeah, spin the bottle" Ryn's eyes sparkle with mischief.

He calls to the others, who shuffle over to us and form a circle around the stained glass bottle. We leave Quinn and Mollie out of it.

Tristan also comes over, his trousers drenched and his bare torso glittering with droplets of water. He sits down in the gap opposite to me.

"Right, I'll spin the bottle" Ryn says, twisting the glass container with his fingers.

We all watch hopefully as the bottle spins and spins and eventually stops, pointing at Fyfe.

"Aww, I don't wanna go first" She says, but Rye speaks anyway.

"Truth or dare?" He asks.

She hesitates for a moment, thinking, then says. "Dare"

Rye chuckles darkly, the cogs in his brain spinning as he concocts the dare.

Fyfe sits anxiously until Rye finally speaks.

"I dare you to kiss me"

A smile prickles at my lips. Rye has always had a crush on Fyfe, everyone knows it, including Fyfe herself. He's not the one to be secretive, neither is he to be shy, so we all knew pretty soon that he fancied the pants off her. He has asked her out a ton of times, but Fyfe always turns him down. It's not that she doesn't like him, she told me herself that she thinks he's hot, but she likes letting him 'stew'.

"Alright then, dare accepted" Fyfe smiles and crawls into the centre of the circle.

Rye can't hide the huge grin on his face as Fyfe closes her eyes and leans in. As they kiss, a long, slow one, Tristan wolf whistles.

When they at last pull apart, Rye's face is glowing. So if Fyfe's actually.

"So... that was nice" Fyfe says, sitting back down.

"It was" Rye agrees. "So will you go out with me now?"

Fyfe hums, pondering the idea. "I'll think about it"

Rye seems happy with that and spins the bottle again.

It twirls round and round until it stops. Pointing in my direction.

"Haha, Elina" Rye laughs. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth" I say.

Everyone looks shocked, even Rye seems surprised. I always pick dare, never truth. But today, I decided to be spontaneous.

"Truth, huh? Strange for you" Rye says. "Oh well. Tristan? Your turn to chose the question"

It doesn't take Tristan long to think of his question.

"Why did you stick up for that twerp Horacio on the day of the reaping?"

Everyone turns to focus on me, even Mollie and Quinn, who break apart to hear my answer.

"You know why, to get revenge on you" I say.

Tristan raises his eyebrows. "No you didn't. You would have told Willa about me and Isobel anyway"

My eyes fall to the floor. He's right. I would have told Willa anyway; I've never been a fan of Tristan's, so telling a few home truths would be top of my to-do list.

But why did I help Horacio?

Out of pity?

No.

I did it to return a favour.

Dahlia Valentine, (District 9's mentor) POV

I straighten my pencil skirt, adjusting it so that it cuts neatly across the top of my knees and makes me look less of a tart. Not that wearing a longer skirt makes you any less of one.

Pulling out my compact, I check my make up. A little mascara, to lengthen my eyelashes, not drown them in black goop. A thin line of sparkled black eyeliner, a dusting of pale blush and a calming pink lip-gloss. Subtle, yet classy and elegant.

I give my hair one last tweak, before I close the compact and slip it into my clutch bag. I then relax my shoulders and twist the door handle.

The door gives way and swings open, announcing my arrival and bringing me into a room of high chatter and giggles. I walk in, letting the doors close slowly behind.

Clustered in the middle of the room are four tables, each with six fancy chairs pulled up, most of them taken. I realise then that I'm late, probably the last one here, except maybe Damien, who is most likely collapsed in some corridor or something. I shake away that disgusting thought and advance forwards.

The tables sit this year's mentors and escorts; all the same as last year, apart from the last Game's victor, who has replaced District Four. And on the tables are the same groups, the same separations. District One, Two and Four sit on the furthest left; Three, Five and Six on the next; Seven, Eight and Nine; and Ten, Eleven and Twelve.

As I walk over to my table, I pass the Career Districts. They're the same as ever; pretty arrogant, boastful and all about themselves. They just sit there, taking it in turns to brag about their achievements and how great their tributes are this year. Blah, blah, blah. Always the same, stuck record with them.

As I walk past, the newest mentor, Dylan, raises his hand to acknowledge me. I smile politely and keep walking. He's only sixteen, still naive. I wonder how long he'll last before either the others drive him mad or he becomes another clone. Hard to tell.

I pass the next table, home to Districts Three, Five and Six. The mentor from Three, Lydia Temple, is being her usual snotty self. I can hear her talking rapidly about a new dress she's designed. I flick my eyes over. Everyone looks bored, their faces tired and their eyes rolling as she talks on. But she stops as I walk past her chair.

"You're late today, Dahlia" She says, her eyes scanning over my outfit. "Couldn't find a longer skirt?"

I glance down at my skirt, which has inched up my top thigh.

"Oh this?" I gesture to my skirt. "It's quite a nice skirt, don't you think?"

Lydia raises a pointed eyebrow.

"It's actually quite comfortable" I continue. "But you wouldn't really know, would you? After all, you do need a figure to wear it"

And saying that, I continue on, flicking my wavy hair behind me with a smug smile on my face.

The next table I come to is the one I sit at. My normal, familiar group of people chat around the table, filling up their glasses and discussing the latest gossip.

I take the empty seat next to Serena, District Nine's escort. She looks up and flashes me a warm smile.

"Why so late?" Serena asks as I tuck my legs under the table. "It's not like you"

I shrug. "Don't know, it just took me longer to get ready"

I turn to the rest of the group. "So, what did I miss?"

Robin, Seven's mentor, answers. "We were just talking about each of our tributes this year"

Seven's escort, Goldie, pipes in. "We just finished discussing Annabeth, so it's one of yours next"

"Oh right, sure. Who should we talk about, Zephyr or Elodie?" I ask.

We do this every year, well every year since I won my Games eight years ago. It's become like a tradition for our table and it would feel strange without it.

"Well, I think they're both incredibly cute" Serena says. "It was so touching when Zephyr volunteered to stay with his sister. I felt so emotional inside"

"Yeah, it has to be one of the best moments of the reapings" Goldie says. "I bet everyone in Panem fell in love with them straightaway; especially him. He's quite a handsome boy"

"He has a really nice personality too" I say. "I hate it when I get a really nice tribute; it's so hard when they die"

"I know, I usually cry for like a week after" Goldie admits. "I'm like a bloody ocean! Imagine what I'll be like when little Phosphorus dies..."

"He might win it, you don't know" I point out.

"Probably not. He's so cute and small and sweet and_ just so cute_!"

"Whoa, are we thinking about the same fourteen year old boy that stalked a Career cast off?" Robin comes in. "He's not as cute and innocent as he seems. Remember earlier today when he almost killed that girl?"

"Yeah, I admit, I was very surprised" Goldie says. "But he didn't kill her, did he? He didn't have it in him"

And the conversation goes on for a while, Goldie almost cries a few times and the drinks keep going round and round. Our glasses never seem to be empty and our plates are a constant supply of food. The meal lasts for another hour or so, then we all move into the bar for an after celebration. A celebration of what, I don't know. But there's drinks and music, so I stay.

Half an hour into the cocktails, Goldie is completely drunk. So tipsy that she tries to drag Damien up to dance. It's quite hilarious watching her struggle to pull his zoned out body from the sofa and failing entirely.

None of us are paying any attention to what's going on in the arena at the moment. The giant screen in the centre of the main wall is being ignored as the party goes on. We wouldn't normally be so ignorant, but nothing is really happening currently, so what's the point in watching when there's fun to be had?

I'm quite tipsy myself, after having a couple of strong cocktails, but I'm not staggering all over the place like some people...mentioning no names. And of course, Lydia is stone cold sober, sitting propped up on a chair in the far corner, watching everyone like a hawk, a disapproving look on her bony face. It's like she's our elder, our guardian, just pointing her nose down at everyone else. And the funny thing is, even though she acts and looks so old, she's only twenty three, younger than me.

"Hey, I'm just going to powder my nose" I say to Serena.

She nods in reply and I escape out the abundance of drunken crazy mentors and escorts.

Once out of the room, I breathe in a cool breath. The air is so much sweeter out here than in there and I take a minute before I walk on to the nearest toilets.

Pushing open the door with one hand, I enter the soap smelling room and head to the sinks. Large, clear mirrors spread across the wall and I lean forwards to inspect my make up. Luckily, it is still pretty intact, barely any smudges. Except for one just under my left eye...

The sound of the door swinging open make me jump and I poke myself in the eye.

"Ouch" I say, blinking to regain my focus.

"Oh, sorry" The sound of a young boy's voice comes in reply.

Shocked, I spin around and see Dylan standing behind me, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Oh, Dylan" I say. "You do know this is the ladies' toilets?"

He nods, slowly, shadily. "I know"

"Then why are you in here?" I ask.

"I came to see you" He replies shortly.

"Me?" I frown. "Why would you..."

He takes a step towards me. A large step, so that he stands barely a metre from me.

"I just thought that we should get to know each other" He says, his voice hushed. "You seem a lot... nicer than the others"

"I don't catch your drift"

He sighs lightly. "Let me put this simply for you then"

I wait, expecting him to start talking again, but he stays silent. Instead, he takes a small step towards me, so that his body is inches from mine and his green eyes stare into mine. He's the same height as me, but I'm wearing heels, so he's probably taller.

"Dylan..."

"Wait"

He reaches his hand up to my face and softly runs his finger down my cheek. This sends a small shiver down my spine.

Then, he bends his head to the side and drops his eyelids shut. I tense my upper body, not sure what to expect next and stay still as he gently, oh so gently, kisses my lips.

His warm lips brush against mine and a tingling sensation runs through my body. Not really aware of what I'm doing, I open my mouth and deepen the kiss. He reacts my slipping his hand around my waist and tickling my back with the patter of his fingers against my blouse.

I let him pour into me, the presence of his youth overwhelming my body. I know that he's only sixteen and I'm twenty five, but I can't pull away as I run my hands through his floppy hair.

After what seems like quite a while, he eventually breaks free and steps back. My heart is racing and my blood feels hot. I stare at his face. His young face. And feel myself blushing.

"Right, well" He says. "I'd better get back to the party then"

"Erm, yes, I should get back too"

"Come a minute or two after me" He says. "We don't want to look suspicious or anything"

"Oh right. Good idea"

Flashing me a cheeky grin, he leaves the room.

The door closes with a soft thud and I'm left standing with my back pressed against the sink, staring into the empty space before me.

My brain can't analyse what just happened.

What _did _just happen?

Nathalie, (Elodie and Zephyr's Mom) POV

I watch as the water boils in the pan. Bubbles begin to crop on the surface, rippling the water and sending pockets of steam floating up and getting lost in the atmosphere. Beneath the pan, flames leap and scratch the metal. They look ready to escape, yet they always stay back. They never stride forwards, never catch and set the house alight. And the smoke drifts out the window.

I leave the pan and fire for a moment, reaching into a cupboard and pulling out two teacups. They're chipped, stained with age, but bare the memory of those who's lips met with the pottery.

I place them on the side and take out some tea leaves from the pot. Their smell is herbal, very herbal. They smell of outside. Of the thick foliage where they were grown and picked. They smell of the fresh air, of winds that swept between their leaves and tickled their edges.

A place I'm too afraid of myself.

The water is ready. I place the tea leaves in the bottom of the cold teapot and lift up the pan. Cautiously, I pour the steaming liquid into the pot and close the lid, sealing the steam. With the spare water I put out the lingering fire, demolishing the flames of red and leaving behind an empty fireplace.

As I wait for the tea to brew, I find myself staring out of the secluded window.

A group of small children, around the age of seven, run past. They seem happy, innocent and taken with the good weather. One child trips. The others don't notice and continue on, unaware that one has fallen. The others, except one. That young boy spots the fallen girl, her hands dirty and her knees scraped. He helps her to her feet and offers his shoulder for support. The girl takes it and hops on behind the rest.

A tear slides down my face.

I wipe it away, quickly.

I know I shouldn't think of this, but I do. I see the group of children as a bunch of teenagers. They all stick together, talk together, have fun together. The girl that falls is Elodie. She's left behind, unable to keep up with the others, but doesn't even try. She doesn't try to stand, brush herself down and carry on. No. She just stays there; defeated. Until the boy comes over. Zephyr. He comes over and picks her up, helps her to her feet. He's the one that leaves the group to help her. He's the one that holds her up. Even when she doesn't want it.

It's been like that for the last fifteen years. Since the day they were both born, Zephyr was the strong one. Not just physically, but mentally too. Zephyr was the one always ahead of the game, figuring out things quickly and always wanting to be the first. He was popular, sometimes too popular; yet he didn't become arrogant. He always had time to rescue his sister.

Elodie. She was the weak one. The one that lagged behind, but out of choice. She chose to be the quiet, depending one. She wouldn't try things on her own, she never wanted to be a child. Not a proper child anyway. She wasn't popular; everyone knew her, but not as herself. As_ 'Zephyr's sister'. _She pretended she didn't mind, but she did. Yet she never did anything about it and always waited to be picked up off the floor.

"Nathalie?" Robin calls from the main room.

"I'm coming!" I call back, shaking off my thoughts and brushing away the stray tears.

Grabbing an old plastic tray, I place the teapot and cups on and take it in my hands. I walk with it to the room, balancing and trying to keep everything from sliding off.

I enter the room and put the tray on the low table. Robin smiles at me from the faded sofa. I pour the tea.

"Are you ok, honey?" Robin asks as I pour his cup.

The boiling brew fills the cup and steam wafts in my face.

"Yes, I'm fine" I reply distantly and hand him his cup. He takes it in both hands and leans back into the sofa.

"Thank you for the tea, it looks perfectly brewed" He says.

"Your welcome" I say, and sit myself down on the sofa beside him, but leave a few inches between us.

Projected on the wall in a rectangle the size of our table, which is fairly small as coffee tables go, is this year's Hunger Games. It plays pretty much 24/7, but honestly, I haven't been watching much. I saw the Tributes' Parade, some of the costumes were pretty good I have to admit. I also watched the interviews, and cried at District Nine's. And I saw the beginning of the Games, but left shortly after the bloodbath began. Apart from that, I've just received updates from Robin.

I would watch it, with it being a Quell, but I can't bring myself to. People may think I'm being ignorant, by refusing to watch and support my own kids. But I'm not. Most people don't understand, only the ones who have been through it themselves, what it's like to have your children taken away and sent to their deaths. And with me, it's worse. I have both of them, _both_. And in the same Games too. So I know that I'll have to say goodbye to at least one of them, possibly both. So how can I watch when that thought is the only thing I see?

I know Robin finds it hard to watch, but I'm sure he only does it for me. As I rarely go outside, I barely get to talk to people and find out the news on who's died. And even if I did, I would rather hear it from my husband than some random person on the street that something has happened to one of my kids. Or both.

"Are you sure you're ok with this?" Robin suddenly asks me.

I gulp some tea. It scorches my throat.

"I'll be ok. It's just for an hour or two" I say. "Just so I can see if they're alright"

And it will only be that long. I couldn't bring myself to watch much more, but I feel it as my responsibility to at least check that they're coping. Well, coping the best they can.

"Ok then. But if it gets too much..."

"I know. I'll just leave" I nod and we turn our heads to the lit wall.

Currently, the cameras are showing the Career base. It's drawing on evening there, the same as it is here, and the sun is getting lower in the artificial sky.

One of the Careers, a pretty tough looking boy probably from Two, is stomping around, yelling at one of the girls. That's what it's normally like; the big tough guy wanting to control everyone. But the girl is standing up for herself. In fact, she seems to be winning the argument. What ever it's about.

The argument lasts a few minutes longer before the Gamemakers decide it's repetitive and switch to view another alliance.

The Twin Alliance.

The wall is filled with the faces of my kids. A flutter of pain in my stomach causes me to wince and tears threaten to break as they prick at my eyes. I blink them away, determined to be a good Mother and show support. Not that they can see me anyway.

However relieving it is to see them alive, a damp mood elapses. They too are arguing.

The camera has come in too late to see the root of the dispute and it seems as though it's fizzling out. Zephyr has walked away, his face showing hurt, but not anger. He's never angry. Never. Even in the gloomiest of times, he always managed to keep a smile on his face.

The angle switches over to Elodie. She's sitting by the window, exactly like she used to do at home. A tear rolls down my face. I don't wipe it away.

She stares, longing for something she can't have. Safety? Security? Home?

I stand up, place my cup on the table and walk out the room.

I walk up the battered stairs, worn with footprints and pause in front of Elodie's room. The door is open, just like it always was. She never needed privacy. She had nothing to keep private. Everything she had she kept in her head.

My foot edges into the room. The floorboards creak. Each step sounds a low groan as I advance to the window.

Then, ever so slowly, I sit on the window ledge.

It's cold, but in a way, comfortable.

I lean my head towards the window and stare. I stare into the sky, I stare at the houses around. I stare into the empty space that she once looked at. The empty space that hangs her memories. I sit and stare.

Then I hear it.

A scream.

It stings my heart with emotion. I have no time to register it in my brain. All I can hear is that scream. That scream alone.

With not a second to think further, I've leapt from the window sill, skidded down the stairs and flown into the main room.

The door bashes against the wall, but I take no notice.

As my eyes are stuck to the wall.

The wall which shows my daughter.

My fallen, dead daughter.

* * *

**A/N- Yup, so with the death of Elodie in the previous chapter, I thought it would be a good time to slot in another Outsiders chapter. You seemed to like the first one, so hopefully you liked this one too. It's quite fun to write from other people's POVs, so yup. I do it.**

**Hmmm, for once, I don't think I'll ask any questions... I can't really think of any major ones for this chapter, so just tell me your thoughts instead :P **

**My only questions would be whether you are enjoying the story so far, who are your favourite tributes and if you have any future predictions?**

**As usual, let me know everything you thought about the chapter. And lets get even more reviews in! I really do love reading them, whatever you say :D**

**As for the next chapter, it should be up in the next 10 days I would guess :)**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	19. Tactics

**A/N- Hello again. Long time no see... sort of. Sorry, but this chapter was so damn hard to write at first; I just couldn't get started... But oh well, it's all done now and I hope you enjoy it! x**

* * *

Victoria Buchegger, District 5 POV

"How's dinner cooking?" Inva asks, walking into the back room of the church, where I have the fire going.

We both agreed that the back room was the best place to set up fires. It isn't out in the open, so it can't be seen from outside. The room is quite large, so we won't choke too much on smoke that has been confined in a small area. And at the top-most places in the wall, slits are slashed into the bricks, so the smoke can slip out unnoticed. It's pretty perfect actually.

"It's almost done" I say, turning the browning meat on a stick. The flames below leap up and scratch at the dead animal, slowly roasting it until it's edible.

"Ah, good. I'm hungry" Inva sits down, crossing her legs beneath her.

I continue spinning the stick, catching the last strong flames of fire and finishing off the cooking. Once the meat looks cooked through, I slide off the stick.

Taking another pointed stick, one about the size of a fork, I push a chunk of the meat down. It impales on the stick and I pass it to Inva. She takes it gratefully.

"Thanks"

"No problem" I look at my own dinner. A brownish black piece of meat stares back at me. I can remember when this meat was a living creature, just scurrying through the forest without a care, so it seemed. I'm glad I didn't have to kill it; Inva did that. She ended it's life quickly; a penknife through its throat. Just like that. No second thoughts, no hesitations. Just a quick pull through; as quick as the snare snapped it up in the first place.

And because she killed it, I had to cook it. That's the way things go in the alliance. We split the work; half and half. It's only fair; Inva's fair. Although sometimes I feel like she's slightly leading. Not that I mind. She seems to have better plans. But I have my uses. I built the snare after all.

"You gonna eat it or not?" Inva suddenly asks.

I look up and notice that she's looking at me, her eyebrows crossed in a frown.

"Oh" I look back at the dead animal. I mean food. "I'm not hungry"

"You sure?" She asks. "You should probably eat something"

"I'm sure" I answer. "I'll eat tomorrow; I'm just not hungry now"

"Ok then" Inva says, then looks to my uneaten meal. "Can I eat it then, if you don't want it?"

"Sure" I throw her the stick and she catches it with one hand.

"Thanks"

I sit in silence for a moment, staring at the fire while Inva eats quietly. The lack of sound is sort of unpeaceful, in a way. But I guess it's much better than meal times in the Capitol; with Raymond bragging about his achievements, how he's in with the Careers, how he scored a ten in training and all the rest of the crap that comes from his mouth... including particles of half chewed food. It was gross. Really gross.

I'm actually surprised with myself and how I managed to keep calm around him for so long. He wound me up from the second I met him at the reaping. I had already seen him around the District; flaunting his muscled arms and swaggering around like he owned the place. I tended not to take any notice of him; I never thought I would ever have to. But of course, knowing my twisted bad luck, I ended up as his District partner for the biggest Games I would ever witness in my life. How typical is that?

And all those times I wanted to throttle him; before we even got into the arena. Just the things he would say and the little things he'd do got on my nerves so much. It was incredibly difficult to stay neutral around him. But I did.

Ok, apart from that one time with the chicken...

"What you laughing at?" Inva asks.

I didn't even notice I was smiling. "Oh, just remembering something funny"

"From home?"

"No, it happened in the Capitol" I tell her. "The night before the Games"

"Care to share?"

"Do you know my District partner, Raymond?" I ask firstly.

She nods. "The idiot who got in with the Careers?"

"That's the one" I smile vaguely. "Well, it was when we were at the dining table, having our evening meal. Raymond was telling us for the billionth time about his assessment with the Gamemakers and was really winding me up. I could feel my blood literally boiling in my veins and I tried to keep my anger controlled, but in the end I couldn't hold it any longer"

"What did you do?"

"Well, he was going on about how he was basically gonna walk the whole thing and become Victor and stuff"

"Egotistic pig"

I laugh. "Yup, that's him. Anyway, he started patronising me about my score and I just blew. In the end, I slammed down my cutlery and practically threw my chair across the room. Then I told him a few home truths and then told him to choke on his chicken"

"Choke on his chicken?" Inva smirks. "Harsh"

"Yeah, it wasn't the best insult, I know. But at the time, it felt right" I frown. "But you should have seen his face"

"I bet it was priceless"

"It was"

We laugh for a few minutes. Me, remembering his exact facial expression, and Inva, probably picturing it roughly. Either way, it keep us entertained for a while until the moment passes and we both elapse into silence again.

"So, how was the meat?" I break the silence.

Inva shrugs. "Not the nicest thing I've ever eaten, but it's food and I need it"

"It looked disgusting" I say. "You know, I think I might become a vegetarian"

"I'll hold you to that when you're shivering and starving, begging me to share my freshly roasted bird"

"Hmm, it was just an idea" I say. "But if that ever happened, you'd better share it. We're allies, remember?"

"Of course" Inva replies. "And speaking of allies, isn't it your turn to sharpen the spears?"

I sigh. "Sadly, it is"

"Well there's a pile waiting to be carved" Inva smiles. "And while you whittle, I shall take a quick nap"

"I'll wake you up in a few hours then" I say, walking over to the pile and picking up some fallen branches, which I'm meant to turn into weapons.

Inva stretches out her arms, then settles in a sleeping position. Her eyes stay open, watching me as I decide to work outside, then finally fall shut as I disappear out the door.

The evening is cool as I emerge from the building. The steady glow of the sun bathes everything I can see in a soft, orange light. I would say it was beautiful, but I know it isn't.

I take the strips of wood and find a safe spot to sit. It's a corner between the side of the church and the short wall around it. The ground is still fairly hard, but it's made ever so slightly comfier by the thin layer of dry grass that sits on top.

I settle down, my back leaning solidly against the dusty sandstone bricks. I pull out a penknife; it's the only proper weapon we have at the moment, as at the Cornucopia we only managed to grab a few things... none of which were decent weapons.

I take a piece of wood and begin carving into it. I whittle on, scraping off strips of coarse bark until I reach the smooth under layer. I work quietly, concentrating on the sharp shape I wish to create. Once the first one is finished, I check it's spike-ability by prodding it at my arm.

I curse under my breath as I press to hard and my skin is pierced and little streams of blood seep out.

Pressing my bleeding arm to my lips, I try to stop the blood flow. Alas, as I remove it and look, the crimson liquid starts pouring out again.

Sometimes, I can be such an idiot.

Huffing, I get to my feet. I think we have something I can use as a bandage inside. I start to walk away, then pause and retract back. I'd better not leave the knife.

Once the knife is safely back in my hand, I start walking back to the door again. On the way, I have to pass the gravestones and I can't help but glance a them.

They're all still there; the twenty four stones. Standing like depressed soldiers, their grey faces tired and weary. They seem the same as ever, except as I'm turning away, something new catches my eye.

Walking slowly towards them, I look closer. There's something different about them today. Something I've never noticed before.

It's not the first row of stones; the six names are still there; as clear as day. But it's the second row that has grabbed my attention.

There's an addition. A new name.

At first I'm slightly puzzled. I don't remember hearing a canon, but then again, there was that small earthquake. The tribute probably died then.

I step closer and peer at the name, the letters hard to make out as of the shadow cast over them. I eventually make out what it says.

Elodie Torelli, District Nine.

"Hmm, interesting" I say to myself.

At first I thought it was creepy to stay in a church. But now, I think it can play to our advantage.

Annabeth Rylie, District 8 POV

"We've run out of food" I state, looking disappointedly at the empty bag. "Not even a crumb left"

I poke my finger into the bag, running it around the inside just in case I missed something. Just in case a small, shrivelled piece of food is hiding somewhere. But of course, there isn't. The bag is still as empty as it was when I first looked.

Sighing heavily, I kick the bag away.

"Hey, what did the bag ever do to you?" Says the sympathetic voice of my ally.

"It didn't give me food" I reply grumpily, the feeling of hunger biting at my stomach and causing me to feel miserable.

"Well it's not a food processor" He says, obviously. "That was not stated in it's job description"

"I didn't mean it literally" I roll my eyes.

"Hey, don't get all stroppy with me cuz you've scoffed all the food"

"I have not scoffed all the food!" I say in defence. "You ate more than me!"

"Ah" He says, flexing his fairly decent sized bicep. "That is because I'm a growing man"

I raise my eyebrows. "Yeah... a growing man that's gonna get a slap in a minute"

Guthrie holds his hands up in surrender; he knows I mean it. And I would have slapped him if his facial expression didn't make me laugh so much.

"Oh my god, you look like some creepy cat or something" I say, smirking.

He miaos and pretends to lick his paw, his pink tongue lapping at thin air.

Shaking my head, I turn back to the bag and pull it towards me. I zip it up and feel dishearted at the light weight as I hold it in my hand.

"What are we going to do about food then?" I ask Guthrie.

He ponders for a moment. "Um, we have four choices"

"And they are?"

"Number one: we go hunt in the woods"

I bite my lip. I'm not really sure if I want to go back to the woods. We went earlier in the day to get some more water and possibly food. But we saw someone in the trees, I couldn't tell who, and legged it before they spotted us.

"Number two: we could do something drastic for sponsors"

"Something drastic?..."

"Let me finish" He says. "Number three: we could eat each other"

I frown. "Erm... Isn't there a rule about that?"

He shrugs. "I think so... Anyways, number four: we could steal some"

He waits while I think about the options, his dark green eyes scanning my face, waiting for a decision.

I think them all through, well except for number three as it's against the rules and I don't really want to eat Guthrie, or him to eat me. The first option is probably the most sensible, but I really don't want to go back in there; it's creepy and that person might see us. I think about the second option, sponsors, but I'm not quite sure what we'd do. I mean, sponsors don't just hand things out on a plate, you have to be pretty desperate to get anything. I toss that idea away too. Which just leaves the last option: to steal.

I was always brought up knowing that stealing was wrong. I've never stolen anything before in my life. It was cheating and shallow. But now, I'm actually considering it. We're in the Hunger Games, not District Eight. People haven't worked themselves nearly to death to afford food, it could have been anyone's, it was just a matter of who got it first. So technically I'm not taking someone else's possessions... Besides, this is a game to the death. Guthrie and myself come first. Everyone else is an enemy; if we let ourselves starve because we feel bad about stealing then what is the point of being here? We might as well have stepped off our plates early and ended it then.

"Ok" I turn to Guthrie. "Let's go steal some food"

He looks at me, a small grin flicking at his lips. "Are you sure?"

I nod. "It's the better option. I'm quite good at sneaking around, so it could be easy"

"I was hoping you were going to say that..."

About an hour later we have come up with a master plan and prepared everything for it. Currently, we are hiding in a house near the middle square, where both the Cornucopia and the Careers' camp lie.

I peer through a hole in the wall where a brick is missing, gazing at the Career base. Several tents are set up in a sort of circle, a short distance from the remains of a campfire. I can tell it's a campfire from the series of fold up chairs and logs placed around it as seats. It looks pretty impressive and luxurious compared to our tatty carpet and collapsed building.

"Have they left yet?" Guthrie asks, whispering in my ear.

"Just about to" I reply. "Three of the dudes are just collecting their weapons"

From our recent observation, we managed to find out that half of the camp were planning on checking out the village for tributes. There was a canon a few hours ago, around early sunset, which means that there is probably a widowed, grieving tribute hiding out somewhere. The Careers will be out for them.

I watch as the three boys walk off, in a random direction towards the cluster of damaged buildings. I wait for a few moments until they're out of sight, then turn to Guthrie.

"Right, they've left" I tell him.

As he turns his face towards me, I have to blink a few times.

"Erm...Guthrie..." I frown at him. "What's with the streaks on your face?"

He winks. "Ah, that would be my war paint, captain"

"War paint?" I repeat unsurely.

He nods. "Yes. It is my war paint, made from the finest dirt"

I glance at the ground. "But the mud is all dry"

He waggles a finger at me. "Not if you mix it with spit it's not"

I pull a face. "Ew, that's disgusting, Guthrie"

"I thought it looked rather dashing"

"Right... well, whatever you say" I shrug. "Anyways, I think we should put the plan into action"

Guthrie nods and slithers off to his position. I crawl out of the house, through a gap in the bricks large enough for me, but too small for Guthrie. It's a squeeze, but I manage to get out with only a few scrapes.

Once out, I check the if the coast is clear. It is.

I open and close my fist three times, silently signalling to Guthrie. I receive three in return and smile as I turn back to the plan. Now, all I have to do is wait for a few minutes...

The first part of the plan kicks into action. The two Careers who were lounging around the camp have fallen for the bait.

"Over there!" The girl exclaims, pointing to a building a few rows down from my position.

The boy rushes off, soon back with a trident and says something to his partner. She nods and they both sprint off, heading straight for the string of fire. And it is literally a string.

A ball of string was one of the things me and Guthrie found in our bags. So Guthrie had the genius idea of hanging it around part of the village and setting it alight. That way, the fire would burn along the complicated route of the string, therefore leading the Careers on a wild goose chase.

And it looks like they've fallen for it. Which means that Guthrie has done his bit and now it all relies heavily on me to carry out the rest.

I wait for a few more moments behind the wall, just to make sure that they're well out of sight. Then, peeping from behind the wall, I check for a clear path and then make my break.

I sprint along to the camp, my eyes constantly facing towards my goal. As I come bolting towards the tents, I skid to a slow jog to conserve my energy for the long run back.

I jog into the main camp and head straight for the Cornucopia, which sits a short distance from the tents.

Walking into the mouth of the giant gold structure, I start looking around. Boxes are piled high around the room, but they look obviously organised. The boxes are sorted by size, and possibly by content.

I move over to one of the boxes and flick the fastening. The box creaks open and I look inside. It's empty. The inside is completely bare.

Sighing, I close the lid and hunt for more. I look through a few more empty boxes until I find something useful. It's a box containing a few bags of apples.

"Perfect" I say under my breath as I open up my bag and begin filling it with the fruit.

I fill about a third of it, then close the box. I'll need more than just apples.

Rooting around a bit more, I discover some dry crackers and another empty bottle, this one larger than the one we already have. I take it and tiptoe out of the Cornucopia.

Once outside, I check for any signs of life and breathe a sigh of relief when there isn't any. Cautious anyway, I make my way to the well. A bucket hangs on a tattered piece of rope. I push it over the edge and begin lowering it down to the water.

Pulling on the rope, I bring the now full bucket back up and haul it onto the side of the well. I then take our bottles and scoop up the clear water, filling them to the brim and sneaking a quick gulp or two here and there. Once the bottles are filled, I tip the remaining water back into the well and leave the bucket on the side.

"Part three: water. Complete" I smile to myself.

Now, all that is left is the escape back to my own camp.

I turn away from the well.

"You're such an idiot, Tal" A girl's voice breaks the silence. "If we had gone the way I'd said, then we would have caught the fire starter"

I hold my breath. I'm not sure whether to be pleased or frightened. I know Guthrie made it out ok, but now I'm not sure if I will too.

"But your plan would have taken us through a burning building!" The boy protests. "And I'd rather not catch a tribute than be burnt alive"

"Fine, lets both take the blame, ok?" The voices get louder.

My feet are stuck to the ground. I'm not sure which way to go. I can't tell where the pair of Careers are; they could be anywhere.

But I can't just stand here. Guthrie will be wondering where I am and honestly, I don't particularly want to die today.

So that makes my decision to make a risky break for it.

I run like I've never ran before. My legs are moving at a speed I didn't even know I had. And my arms are propelling me even faster, causing the bag on my back to bounce awkwardly and uncomfortably on my back.

I don't look back. Not once. Not even when an exclamation from the girl confirms that my cover is blown. I keep my head firmly forwards and run.

The safety of the village draws closer. Within a short while, I'll be hidden. Lost amongst the jungle of grey, crumbling buildings.

Raymond Periwinkle, District 5 POV

"What does Kelvin want me to do?" I ask, stretching out my limbs as I get to my feet. "Because it better be worth the effort to get up"

"You're so lazy, Ray" Tal says. "If it were me, I'd be jumping at the chance to go"

"Yup, jumping at the chance to do something with Bryn" I smirk. "So what exactly were you two doing earlier? Or don't I wanna know?"

Tal thrusts his hands in his pockets. "You know, just stuff"

"Stuff?" I wink.

His cheeks tint red. "She was teaching me how to throw knives..."

"Throw knives? That's the best you could come up with?"

"I'm not lying!"

"Of course you aren't"

"He isn't lying, Raymond" Bryn strolls past, wiping two knives together to sharpen the blades. "But, he also isn't telling the entire truth"

"The entire truth?" I question, feeling curious.

Bryn walks beside Tal and rests her hand on his shoulder. "This boy right here, almost made a confession of love to me"

Tal flushes a shade darker.

"After the earthquake, I decided to prank him to believe I was dead" Bryn continues. "And obviously, since I'm the best pranker, he fell for it. So he launched into full morning mood and started weeping over me"

The smirk on my face expands.

"And then he started saying something along the lines of, '_Bryn, I...I...I_" She pauses and flashes Tal a wicked grin. "So we can only presume what he would have said if I didn't choose that as the time to awaken"

"Aww, little Tal is in love" I say in a patronizing voice and reach out to pinch his scarlet cheeks. But his hand strikes mine out the way before I can.

"Stop presuming things, ok?!" He says, sounding agitated. "I am not in love with Bryn, so stop going on about it and leave me alone"

And saying that, he turns and storms off, leaving just me and Bryn smirking at each other.

I'm the first to speak. "So... did that really happen, or are you just winding me up?"

"It happened" Bryn confirms. "But he probably wasn't going to confess his love; that was me just having some fun and picking on him"

"Ah, well you did a good job in successfully humiliating him" I say. "He's quite pissed with you, I would imagine"

"Nah, he can't stay mad at me for long" Bryn turns to walk away. "He's in love with me, remember?"

I laugh as she saunters off, the sound of blade on blade fading as she disappears from view.

Once she's gone, I sigh. I've got to go and see what Mr Boss Kelvin wants now. Probably a foot massage... He seems to think he overrules us all and we're just his mere servants. I should protest, stand up for myself and the others, but really, I can't be bothered. He's alright with me, so I wouldn't want to jeopardise that. And also, he let me into the pack. So maybe I can just put up with his ways for a little longer.

I take my time walking over to Kelvin's tent, casually strolling along in the pleasant evening. When I at last reach the tent, both Kelvin and Ren are standing outside. Kelvin is muttering something to Ren, who's nodding in return. They both turn around as I come beside them.

"Where the hell have you been, Ray?!" Kelvin asks impatiently.

"Over there" I point across to the other side of camp.

Kelvin raises his eyebrows in annoyance. "I meant, how long does it take to get your ass over here?"

"Well you didn't specify, or I would have told you" I say daringly.

This earns a dark scowl from Kelvin, but he doesn't extend on the subject.

"Right well, you're here now" He says. "So I guess we can get started"

"Get started doing what exactly?" I question.

Kelvin hands me a long sword. "Hunting"

"Hunting what?" I ask as we leave the camp.

"Well, we know that someone was killed a little while ago, most probably by the quake" Kelvin explains. "So, my guess is that there will be a grieving ally somewhere, who probably won't be expecting us"

"How do you know that they had allies?" I ask.

"Ask Ren, it was his conclusion" Kelvin jerks a thumb over to Ren, who looks up from staring at his feet with a startled expression.

"What?" He looks confused.

"Tell Ray about the conclusion" Kelvin says. "I need to figure out the best way of getting there"

"Oh right, sure" Ren says, stepping behind, next to me, while Kelvin walks ahead. "Well, we heard a canon a little while earlier-"

"I know that bit" I cut him off. "Tell me about why you think they had allies"

"Oh. Well, in training, while most of you were all practising fighting and showing off, I did some careful observation" He starts. "I watched the other tributes, watched who they socialised with and therefore started up a picture in my mind of all the alliances"

I nod.

"And then at the bloodbath, I hid and watched them to see if I was right about the alliances. And it so happened that I was" He continues. "So, therefore I noticed that there were only three people without allies; so, whoever died today, is most probably in an alliance of some sort. It is more likely that they are than not"

"I s'pose" I shrug. "I'll just take your word for it; I'm not much of an observer"

We fall silent and walk on, following Kelvin's lead. He takes us through alleys and around buildings, and we're on constant alert for any tributes. It seems like we've been walking for a lifetime when Kelvin finally stops.

He turns to face us and speaks in a low whisper. "Ok, just behind this house are the collapsed buildings from the quake. We're going to split up and inspect them. Remember that we're looking for evidence that another person has been there recently, like some old supplies or something that they couldn't get out while they were fleeing from the collapsing house. Got it?"

Me and Ren nod.

"Good" He looks at Ren. "Ren, you take the right alley and Ray, the left. I'll look around here and we'll meet back in about ten minutes"

And then we split.

I take the left alley, as told, and walk normally down it. I don't care if I'm making noise; it's not like I need to worry about being heard by other tributes. They're the ones who need to be afraid of me anyway, so giving them a bit of warning will make the chase even more thrilling.

It's only been about two days since the bloodbath, but already I'm feeling bored and bloodthirsty. I killed one person that day; the tiny weakling from Three. He was easy; he barely moved, just cowered on the floor while I stood over him with a sword above his head. It was pretty pathetic, but still, it was a kill. Which is better than what Tal could say; he didn't kill anyone. He got close to a few. And Ren didn't kill anyone, of course he didn't, he was 'observing'. Kelvin got the chubby girl from Six, Bryn the skinny geek from Ten (which was actually the first kill, so that's like double points) and then Brooklyn killed the other three. Which I must say, is pretty impressive, even if one of them was kind of in our pack...

I never liked that Jacob.

At the time, I felt great after killing that boy. I felt more like I belonged in the pack and thought that maybe people would respect me more. And now, the aftermath of the bloodbath is wearing off and people are forgetting that I too, killed someone. Which brings me to feel slightly annoyed and wanting more.

I want to be the first to kill someone after the bloodbath. That would surely earn me some more respect. Plus, it could be quite fun.

I'm not sure when I'll have my second kill. I'm determined that there will be one soon. But when, is the question.

Something scrapes along my boot. Curious, I bend down and look at the rubble beneath my feet. I'm expecting it just to be a roof tile or something, but what I find is much better than that.

A small, hand-woven ivy wreath. It sits amongst crumbled bricks and dusty foundations, clear as the sun in the sky.

I pick it up, feeling it in my hands and grinning as I do.

This is the evidence I need.

Bryn Rosella, District Two POV

I stand in front of the tent, rippling the entrance flap with my hand.

"Tal?" I call through. "I know you're in there"

There's no reply, just the sound of my impatient breaths and the occasional drag of the breeze across the sides of the tent.

"You can't sulk in there forever; you'll have to come out at some point" I say. "Preferably anytime before night fall, seeing that we're on watch duty"

He still says nothing.

I kick the tent.

"Oi!" The response comes from inside. "You trying to collapse it on me or something?"

"If that's what it takes" I say cheerfully, giving the tent another prod with my foot.

"Do you mind?" He moans.

"Nope, do you?"

"As it so happens, yes, I do mind" He replies. "So if you could just quit kicking the tent; you're starting to pee me off"

I laugh to myself.

"Oh come on, Taaaalll" My voice sounding like a nagging child. "You're sooo borrriiing"

A huff comes from inside. "And you're so annoying"

"Fine, we're both as bad as each other" I say. "Now will you stop being so immature and come out already?"

"No"

"We could prank Brooklyn again" I tempt him. "I have tons of fabulous ideas"

I wait for a minute. Tal will come out anytime now; there's nothing he loves more than pranking someone, especially Brooklyn. Ok, maybe except for his trident. He loves that thing.

After a few, agonisingly long minutes, it seems that he isn't coming out. I huff, my arms folded at my chest and start to walk away. As I get further away, I hear the sound of swishing material and I halt and spin back round.

The entrance of the tent is pulled open and Tal is standing half in and half out of the tent. I walk back over to him, feeling pleased with myself for winning the situation.

"Ha, I knew that would make you come out" I smile.

"It wasn't just that" He says. "Fortunately for you, I find it extremely difficult to stay mad at you for long"

"That's because you love me" I pull an innocent and glowing face.

"It's because we're so alike" He corrects. "You'd probably be the same with me"

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow.

He nods. "Yup. And don't even try to deny it"

I punch him lightly on the shoulder. "Wasn't going to"

In return for my punch, he shoves me in the side. It's a little harder than I expected, so it takes me by surprise and I stumble, but don't quite fall over.

"Hey, that was way harder than my punch" I say, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Ouch"

I get in a ready position, awaiting his next attack. My muscles tense and I'm ready to dodge any incoming pushes, shoves or punches. But none come.

I look over to Tal. He's staring off into the distance somewhere, his neat eyebrows knitted in a tight frown. He's looking at something.

"Um, Tal?" I move beside him to check out what he's staring at.

I soon see it. A vivid glow of red and orange. Someone has lit a fire.

"Fire" I confirm out sight.

Tal nods in return.

"It's over in that house over there" I point to the fire and say to Tal, "Grab your trident, we're going hunting"

Tal zips off and returns almost immediately with his gorgeous weapon. It shines brightly in his hand as the evening sun catches the smooth surface of the metal and sends reflected lights all around us.

My hand skims along my belt, counting. My eight knives are all present.

"Right, let's go kill us a tribute" I say, and we both set off.

We run side by side, neither one of us overstepping the other. We run straight into the cluster of broken buildings and use the smell of smoke as a guide.

We soon reach the start of the fire. A little house, with huge gaps in the walls for windows and only one, not so spacious, room.

I peer inside.

"Whoa, the fire is too big" I state. "There is no way a tribute is in the building, they'll choke on the amount of smoke"

"Maybe they used some special wood created by the Capitol as a trap that bursts into uncontrollable flames?" Tal suggests. "And they couldn't stop it, so they ran away and left it"

I nod, agreeing. "Good point. That fire looks too large to be deliberately made for cooking or warmth. They must have panicked and left"

"Then whoever started it can't be that far already, it's a new fire"

"Precisely. I suggest we go through the house, then we'll find an escape route which the tribute would have taken" I say.

"No, no, no" Tal disagrees. "We'll run straight into the fire"

"Not if we go around it. It's only on one side of the room"

"Yeah, but if it's uncontrollable, then it might expand and trap us inside. I suggest we go around the house and then find the escape route"

I sigh. He's probably right. So I nod in agreement and we walk around the house, keeping our eyes peeled and weapons at the ready.

We get around the whole house, the heat from the fire at our sides, seeping through the chapped walls of the building and warming up our skin. As we get to what should be the back of the house, Tal stops in his tracks and I almost crash into his back.

"Look there" He points to the next row of closely knitted houses.

I do. "What about them?"

"The fire, it's leapt from this house to those ones" He says.

"And? Isn't that what fires do?"

"Not like that" He shakes his head. "Fires aren't that coordinated and in line. Look at the way the flames act; they're all together like soldiers"

I take a step towards the houses, but a sharp tug on my arm pulls me back.

"Whoa, careful there" Tal grips my arm tightly.

"What?" I turn to face him.

"You almost stepped under a string of fire" He says. "Look"

I look up and see, literally, a string of fire. The flames are small, flickering and settle along a thick piece of string that comes from the house and leads directly into the others.

"It's a trap, or..." I whisper.

"A distraction" Tal finishes.

We look at each other for a second, both thinking the same thing, then sprint off in the direction we came.

We zip down alleys and leap over broken bricks. When I see the outline of our camp coming into view, I turn on my full speed, my legs powering my light body onwards. Tal comes up beside me. Our speed is matched. _We _are matched as we race back.

As we skid into the camp, just behind the tents, I tap Tal's shoulder and we both stop.

"I think there's someone by the well" I say in a low voice.

Tal peeps out. "A girl with blonde curly hair. She's filling up some bottles"

"Ah, I think I remember her. I think she teamed up with her district partner" I say. "He probably started the fire"

Tal nods. "We should pretend we don't know she's here"

"Good idea"

We both walk out, staging a dispute. We snap at each other about the fire, blaming the other for our misfortune. Tal's quite good at improvisation, his arguments flowing well and sounding very realistic. Meanwhile, I keep the girl in sight, through the corner of my eye. She seems to have noticed us, but is yet to make her move.

That is, until now.

She starts her sprint, running in a direction away from us.

"Tal!" I shout urgently.

He spots the girl running and we both take off. She's quite a distance in front of us. I pull out a knife and attempt to hit her. I miss by a couple of yards and it's too late to throw another, as the girl slips in the cluster of tightly knitted buildings and is out of sight before I can even blink.

"Damn it" I say, slowing to a jog.

Tal, who was running slightly behind, doesn't realised I've slowed until it's too late and he crashes into the back of me.

I stumble forwards, falling flat on my stomach, Tal's weight pressed against my spine.

"Tal" I cough into the floor. "You're kind of squishing me"

"Oh, sorry" He shuffles on top of me and then slides onto the ground beside me.

"I could get used to that" He says.

"To what? Lying on top of me?" I question, frowning.

He laughs. "Not unless you want me to"

I don't reply.

"No, I meant I could get used to chasing tributes" He says. "The adrenalin is fantastic"

"You? An adrenalin junkie?" I raise my eyebrows. "You're not that daring"

"Who says I'm not a risk taker?"

"I do"

"Pfft, well I'll prove you wrong" He says stubbornly.

"Fine then. Prove me wrong" I dare.

"Alright then" He says. "Stay still"

Slightly puzzled however, I do as he said. I'm not sure what he's going to do, or say, to convince me, but I stay still to find out.

He shuffles along the floor so that his body is practically leaning against mine.

"Erm, Tal?" I start, but I'm hushed by his finger on my lips.

"Let me take the risk" He whispers, his eyelids fluttering closed.

And then he kisses me.

It's a strange sensation, to have someone else's lips touching your own. It feels warm and moist. And almost like I'm being invaded.

Yet I kind of like it.

I've never kissed, or been kissed by anyone before, but I seem to know what to do as I kiss back. I push myself in closer to him, closing the gap between our bodies and reaching my arm around his neck. My hands find his hair and my fingers run through the wavy mop. Tal responds by kissing me harder.

* * *

**A/N- OOooh, so quite a lot happened in that chapter that could lead to big things... yes, big things indeed...**

**Firstly, it's the return of the questions... Yes, I think this chapter is question worthy :P**

**So, what did you think about Annabeth and Guthrie's plan? Was it too risky and do you think they will get away with it, because after all, Bryn and Tal did see her...? Secondly, what do you think will happen with Ray? Do you think he'll be able to track down the owner of the ivy wreath? And finally, the biggest happening: Tal and Bryn's kiss. Duuunnn duuunnn duuuunn! Were you expecting that? Do you think they'd make a good couple, or does Tal even mean it? After all, he did just say it was 'a risk' to prove something to Bryn...?**

**As usual, thanks to all who submitted, read and reviewed the story so far; you're the ones that keep it going! Let me know all your thoughts via review and lets get at least ninety reviews! (in total, that is)**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

**Oh, and I almost forgot to mention. I've just been accepted into a 24 Author Collaboration! If you don't know what that is, then: basically, 24 authors come together to write one story. It's a HG fic and yeah, I don't want to reveal too much... But anyways, the reapings will be up in about two weeks and in case you want to check it out, it's called: 'Hunters & The Hunted: The 10th Hunger Games', under the author '24 for 24'. And my tribute is Rylie Larkspur, from District Six :D**


	20. Solitude

**A/N- And tadaaaaaaaa! The story returns with a new chapter... I'm sorry guys, but this is quite a sad, depressing chapter... Oh well, you shoud still enjoy it though (I hope) xxx**

* * *

Layla Roberts, District 4 POV

I wake to the point of a crossbow at the tip of my nose.

"Ahh!" I scream, jolting back and hitting my head on the back of the cave wall.

Phosphorus lowers the crossbow, a cheeky grin on his face and dimples in his cheeks.

"It's not funny" I moan, rubbing the back of my head. "That hurt"

"You hit your head on the rock entirely by yourself" Phosphorus smiles. "I didn't push you"

I scowl at him. "You shoved the end of a crossbow in my face! I almost had a heart attack; I thought you were trying to kill me again"

"Again? You're making me sound like I keep a loaded gun to your head twenty-four-seven"

"You might as well" I huff. "Why are you still here anyway? I thought you would have left while I was asleep"

"I'm not gonna lie; I did consider leaving a few times" He admits. "But then I kept reminding myself that I kind of need you"

"_You _need _me_?"

"And vice versa"

I sit for a moment, wanting to protest for my independence, but nothing comes to mind. I guess we do need each other.

"So, why do you need me?" I ask, feeling curious.

He shrugs. "Well, you seem pretty clever and have a knack for fishing. And you need me because I can climb trees and camouflage a lot better than your failed attempt of hiding this cave"

I start to say something, but stop myself. Instead, I say, "I suppose you know a lot more about survival..."

"I know a bit" He says modestly. "I know a few edible plants and stuff"

"Good, because I'd probably die from eating a poisonous leaf or something"

Phosphorus laughs. "We should get on while the weather is good"

I nod and get to my feet, careful not to bash my head on the cave wall again. Phosphorus leaves the cave through the patchy plants that act as a curtain across the entrance. I take my handmade spear and the knife I gained from Phosphorus and slip out the cave after him.

As I emerge through the leaves, I turn and look at the cave. I hate to admit it, but Phosphorus was right, it looks a mess. Random strips of cut vines and thick leaved plants hang wonkily across the mouth of the cave. There are loads of holes and gaps in the greenery and the whole thing looks pathetic.

"If it were me, I would have stuck to the same type of plant. This looks like a mosaic or something and stands out like a sore thumb" Phosphorus comes beside me.

I elbow him in the arm.

"Ouch" He flinches and grabs his arm. "That hurt"

I raise my eyebrows sceptically. "That _hurt_? It was an elbow!"

"Well you have a bony elbow" He says.

"I look forward to seeing your reaction if you get stabbed or impaled with a spear"

Phosphorus' face turns white.

"I'm not going to kill you, idiot" I laugh. "I was just saying that if you thought an elbow hurt, then imagine if you were stabbed"

He snarls at me, then starts walking off. I run and catch up to him.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"To find a good tree" He replies, his eyes facing forward and not looking towards me.

I stay quiet, not wanting to argue with him. The crossbow swings in his right hand and doesn't look very inviting. I think I'd better keep on his good side until we start trusting each other completely. I'm not even sure whether I trust him at all at the moment. He fooled us all; acting weak and pathetic in training. We all thought he was useless and would die on the first day. But oh how wrong we were. It was only yesterday that he had a arrow pointed at my neck and was about to kill me.

As he walks a few steps in front, I start thinking about trust. How do you know if you can trust a person? It's not that much of a life threatening question at home, but in the arena, trust can draw the line between life and death.

Do you trust a person when they become your ally? When they show you kindness? When they share their only food? Save your life?

Don't kill you when they have the chance?

"Hey!" I crash into the back of Phosphorus.

"Oh, sorry" I say, a little dazed.

"Let me guess, you were too busy debating with yourself whether or not to kill me?"

Even though I wasn't, I blush slightly.

"Fine" He says and brings forth his crossbow.

My heart skips a beat. I think for one horrible moment that he's going to shoot me dead right now.

But he doesn't. He hands me the crossbow instead.

I look down at the weapon that lies still in my hand, then back at him.

"Go on" He says. "Kill me now while I'm giving you the chance"

I look back down at the crossbow. The trigger stares back at me with anticipation. Like it's daring me to do something bad.

My eyes flicker up to Phosphorus. He stands with his hand by his sides and his face dead straight; his eyes focused on me. He's daring me too.

I take the crossbow in my right hand and support it with my left. It's actually heavier than I remember. But when I was being attacked by that bird I wasn't really thinking, so I wouldn't really remember the weight of the only weapon I had.

Would shooting from this feel the same if the target was a person and not a ravage animal?

Yes? _No?_

I drop the crossbow.

"Lucky for you, I owe you one" I say. "If you hadn't saved me from that bird then you'd be dead"

Strangely, Phosphorus smiles. "Of course"

I think he meant that in a sarcastic way, but I leave it. Let him have that one.

"Well, now that's over shall we get started?" Phosphorus asks, patting the trunk of a tree with his small hand.

"Sure" I shrug, walking over to the tree. "What's first, Sir?"

His eyes gleam. "Lets start with the basics"

Ten minutes and a few bruises later, I'm halfway up a tree. My shins are grazed and my fingers red raw, but I feel happy.

"There's a branch to your left just above your head!" Phosphorus calls from above. "Grab it and pull yourself up!"

I reach my left arm up the tree, feeling around for the branch Phosphorus spoke of. I find it easily and pull gently on the branch, testing it's safety. When it stays solid, I grab it tightly and haul my body up another metre.

With encouraging calls from Phosphorus, I manage to scale the rest of the tree fairly quickly. There are more branches up here and they're also a lot closer.

As I pull myself up again, I find my face level with Phosphorus. He's grinning.

"That's it" He says, pleased. "Take a seat on that branch behind you and we can have a rest"

I nod and shuffle along so I'm sitting on the arm of the tree.

"Wow, I can't believe I climbed a tree" I say with awe. "It's so high up here!"

"Don't lean over too much-"

His warning is too late and I feel myself losing my balance. The branch seems to slip from underneath me and I feel a rush of fear as my enemy, gravity, starts to pull down at me.

"Ahh!" I scream, my hands flapping as they try to grab something.

Just as I think I'm going to die, a firm hand grabs my wrist.

I crane my neck upwards and see Phosphorus, his face tight as he tries to pull me back.

I know he's too weak to lift me, so with the small amount of stability I have gained, I manage to take hold of another branch and pull myself up.

As I cling safely to the trunk of the tree, I look back to Phosphorus. His forehead is sweaty and his cheeks are flushed red. He doesn't look much like a hero, but he is one to me.

And now, I think I can trust him.

Arya Firestone, District 7 POV

It's the sound of gnawing that rouses me. A scratchy, constant chewing on wood sound that seems to be coming from somewhere above my head where I'm leant against the trunk of the tree.

My neck feels stiff and achy as I sit upright, like someone stuck a metal pole down my neck in the middle of the night and now my movements are limited. I moan as I rub my hand rigorously into my neck, pushing out the knots in an attempt to loosen it.

All the while, the gnawing continues.

Once my neck has loosened slightly, I lean forwards and turn to look up the tree. My eyes scan along the bark and across branches, searching for the root of the chewing. I find it soon enough and my eyes rest upon the sight of a strange looking creature.

I squint my eyes to see past the small flecks of sunlight that break through the barrier of leaves, so that I can figure out what the creature is. It seems to be some form of bird; well actually, it is just a bird. Nothing about it makes it look like a mutt, it's just an average bird scratching its feet along the trunk of a tree. Yes, it wasn't gnawing the tree, it was simply running its clawed feet along some bark. Normal.

Sighing with relief, I relax once more and lean back against the tree. My eyes flutter shut, I'm still quite tired from lack of sleep last night, but I stay conscious. The scratching sound keeps me awake and it's almost impossible to ignore it. But again, I remind myself that it is totally normal. There is nothing to be afraid of. I'm in the Hunger Games, I've seen death, so the sight of a normal bird is something to be pleased about. It is something to remind myself that not everything is out to get me; the trees are my friends, I've grown up with them. So a bird scratching some bark is palliative and completely normal.

"Arya"

I jolt forwards, my eyes fly open. Am I going mad? Did I just hear _my name_?

"Arya" A soft voice speaks my name.

Yes. Yes I did just hear my name. So maybe I'm not mad...

"Who's there?" I say with a slight quiver to my voice. "Who are you?"

"It's me, Arya" The voice replies simply.

My hand reaches for my penknife slowly, cautiously. "Who is _'me'_?"

"You probably won't remember me"

My fingers wrap around the knife and grip it tightly. "Where are you?"

"I'll be everywhere"

My heart patters fast against my rib cage. That could mean anything. They could be crouched below, ready to throw a spear that could impale through my neck; they could be sat above me, grinning as they hold a heavy rock that will drop and crush my skull; or they could be hidden around the other side of the trunk, waiting for their chance to leap round and drag a knife across my neck.

I shiver at the thought of my death and squeeze my fingers even tighter around the knife. I won't let whoever this is defeat me. No, I need to survive; I can't give up yet. But if there's going to be a fight, I'm best moving out of this position, it's not stable enough to fight someone in. I need to-

"Arya" The voice comes again, followed by a heavy rustle in the leaves above me.

I almost jump out of my skin, slipping out of balance and grabbing desperately onto a branch to stop my fall. My nails snap as they dig into the rough bark of the tree, my upper arm shaking from the strain of holding on. There is no way I can hold myself up with one arm. And even if I had both hands free, I still couldn't stay safe for long. That person in the tree would surely get me; they would take great pleasure in sawing through my fingers and watching me fall to the ground, before finishing off the rest of me.

No. I have to escape now.

Taking a deep breath, I hold it in. Then, without further hesitation, I let go of the branch.

I fall.

My body slips between branches, my knees often sanding along the trunk of the tree and my eyes prized open, I'm forcing myself to keep them from closing. I need to see my landing so I can make my getaway.

I've fallen before, on the first day in the arena, when I leapt from the fence that draws the line between the village and the forest. Last time I ended up with a few cuts and bruises, but now I think I'll be lucky if I get away with just a broken ankle.

I push the image out of my mind and focus on landing as safe as I can. The padded leaf ground comes up to meet my body and I bend my knees to prevent my legs from snapping.

Instead, I hear a crunch in my ankle as I hit the floor.

My head falls back and bounces as it comes into contact with the ground, my neck clicking as my skull is thrown upwards. At a still, I'm lying flat on my back, every inch of my body in pain. I try to lift my head, but it seems to weigh the equivalent of the tree itself and I scrunch up my face in both pain and annoyance.

My leg twitches, thankfully not seeming to be broken. I let out a shaky breath in relief as the feeling in my feet returns. But my ankle feels well and truly busted.

I let my eyelids fall as I lie helplessly on the floor. My temples throb and a dry ball has formed in the back of my throat.

And I wait. I wait for the person to come and finish me off.

But they never come.

I open my eyes in confusion; where are they? I'm practically handing myself over to them on a plate! Why would they pass an opportunity as good as this to get rid of me?

"Arya"

My heart plummets. They have come back for me.

"Go on then" I say weakly. "Do what you came to do"

"It's me"

And it's only then that I realise who 'me' is. Only then do I recognise the voice. That voice, that familiar, kind voice that I haven't heard in four years.

It's my brother.

A tear trickles down my bloodied face. He's here; he's really here. They've brought him back. The Capitol have brought him back!

With great effort and anticipation, I lift up my head to see him.

"Ash! I can't believe you're here!" I say, tears still welling up in my eyes

But as I look around, Ash is nowhere to be seen.

"Ash? Where are you?" I ask out. "Where are you?"

"I'll be everywhere"

I suddenly stop.

My eyes are staring directly at Ash. Except it isn't Ash. It's a bird.

It's a jabberjay.

It looks at me with daring eyes, flickering like flames on a fire. Its beak, I swear, is turned upwards in a smug smile. It stands as if to say _'I fooled you'._

And it did. It did fool me. I honestly believed for those few minutes that my brother was back; that the Capitol had brought him back using some kind of technology I don't understand. Because if they can make something out of thin air, surely they can inject life back into my brother?

I spit on the ground. Of course they can't do that. And even if they could, they wouldn't do that. Because why would a society so sick that for entertainment they throw twenty-four innocent teens in an arena to fight to the death, bring back one of their victims to cheer up another tribute? They wouldn't. Instead they think it funny to pretend and give false hope, only to then destroy it like crushing an ant under a heavy soled boot.

"Such generous hosts, aren't you?" I call up bitterly to the sky. "Thought you'd remind me of my dead brother? Thought maybe his voice would soothe me in my despair?"

The jabberjay tilts its head to the side in confusion.

"Well this is what I say to your gift" I grip the penknife in my right fist and painfully roll onto my elbow.

With one trembling movement, I plunge the knife into the jabberjay, the blade digging a hole into the bird's flesh and releasing a thick, red blood that oozes onto my hands and down my arm. Ignoring the blood that trickles down to my elbow, I pull out the knife and thrust it into the bird's neck, listening as I hear the neck bone snap and break in two. But I'm not finished there. I keep at it, hacking at the bird; listening to its final screeches of life and watching it mash up into mounds of blood soaked feathers and pink flesh.

Then, once there is nothing left to destroy, I drop the knife. I drop the crimson blade and fall flat back onto my back.

Ren Elmwood, District 1 POV

There are times when you just want to bury yourself underground and let everyone else cause chaos above you. Times when you just wish that everyone would shut up and quit yelling at each other because _someone is trying to sleep!_

I pull the sleeping bag further over my head, attempting to muffle out the sounds that disturb my slumber. But even through the insulating material and the soft humming to myself, the yells from outside still ring in my ears. The insults still waft in through the tiny slit in the entrance of the tent and dance in my ears.

I jam my fingers in my ears, desperate to block out the noise, but I fail to get comfy again. The sleeping bag feels all lumpy, the floor bumpy and the air to hot to breathe in. How am I supposed to sleep?

"Ughh, fine" I groan, rolling onto my back and staring up at the fuzzy ceiling of the tent.

Sighing and with great effort, I haul myself up to my feet and kick the sleeping bag in the corner. Trudging with heavy steps, I exit the tent.

"She took my extra cracker!" High pitched shrieks leap from Brooklyn's mouth. Her eyes are flaring and her long, extended finger points viciously towards a smug looking Bryn.

"Ew, why would I want your cracker?" Bryn pulls a disgusted face. "It has your finger germs all over it"

"Because you think it's funny to wind me up, that's why!" Brooklyn retorts. "And well done on succeeding!"

Kelvin, who's face looks lined with stress, steps in between the girls.

"Girls, will you please quit this crap and just shut the hell up already?"

Bryn shrugs, while Brooklyn scowls.

"Not until she admits that she stole my cracker"

Kelvin's jaw tightens. "Look Brook, just give it a rest. It's a damn cracker and it's not like we're starving or anything. So just let it go, alright?"

"Why do you always take _her _side?" Brooklyn huffs. "Because she's your district partner? Or because maybe she has you wrapped around her twisted little finger? Or-"

"Brooklyn. Just. Shut. Up." Kelvin says, close to flipping out. "If you don't, then I might end up snapping both of your necks"

Brooklyn goes to say something, decides against it and storms off, her long hair like a flowing cape behind her.

"Finally" Kelvin sighs in relief and collapses on a chair behind him. "I was beginning to think that we'd lose two members of the alliance pretty soon"

"Not if I kill her first" Bryn says, joining him.

I take this more calming atmosphere as a chance to come in. I don't think they've really noticed me; Brooklyn's showdown made sure of that. All eyes were on her, as usual.

I walk in casually and take a seat.

"Oh, hi Ren" Kelvin says. "Didn't notice you there. Did you witness the latest argument?"

"Unfortunately, yes I did" I loosen my shoulders and relax slightly in the chair. "They woke me up"

"Sorry about Brooklyn being so out of control" Bryn says to me. "It's not my fault she's such a diva"

"Yeah, but you shouldn't wind her up like that, it's not good for my mental health" Kelvin says.

"Nothing is good for your mental health, Kel, you're in the Hunger Games, remember? Where kids kill other kids and only one person can live?"

"Well I know what I signed up for, Bryn" He turns to me. "Me and Ren volunteered for this, but you were just reaped"

"We all volunteered, except for Bryn" I point out. "Even Ray and he's not even a proper Career"

"Just because I'm not from a Career district, it doesn't mean I'm not a Career" Ray's voice comes from somewhere behind me. Oops.

"I earned my place; I deserve to be here as much as anyone else does" He continues. "And if you have a problem with that Renny, then I suggest you tell me now"

I don't say anything. I look down to the floor.

"Good. Then we're all settled" Ray concludes, then starts walking away. "I'm gonna go and get a wash"

No-one speaks as Ray saunters off to the well. The air around me falls peacefully quiet. Kelvin's head is tilted back, his dark menacing eyes looking up at the false sky above. Bryn takes out her knives and starts scraping them together, either sharpening them or making herself look tough. With Brooklyn off somewhere, presumably sulking, and Ray off getting a wash, and Tal... well I don't really know where Tal is. Anyways, with all of them gone, the atmosphere is quite calming. And so, I find my eyelids fluttering over.

When my eyes open again, I'm alone. The few seats around me have been emptied and no-one is in sight. I rub my eyes and squint up at the sun. It's still morning, late morning, maybe around eleven? Well whatever time it is, I've had at least an hour of napping.

Stretching out my limbs, I rise from my seated position. My legs feel a little achy from staying in the same position for a while, so I shake them out to loosen them.

"Had a nice nap?" Tal walks past.

I half smile. "I suppose. It's better than nothing. How did you sleep after the watch?"

Tal and I were on night watch last night. Hence the reason I'm so tired and also the reason why I felt cranky this morning and wasn't so pleased when I was rudely awoken by shouting.

I've been the only person so far to have been on watch twice. And we haven't even been in here that long; only a couple of days, today I think is the third. It sort of seems a coincidence that I'm chosen to do two out of three runs. But I'm not one to complain; I probably should, if I'm to keep up a good Career attitude and stand up for myself. However, I don't think I will; I'm not sure I want to get on the wrong side of Kelvin, especially since he's kind of the leader and could probably snap my neck in two seconds flat.

"I slept quite well actually" Tal says, his eyes seem to glisten when he speaks. Like he's pleased about something. But what, I am yet to find out.

"Why are you so happy today?" I ask him curiously.

He shrugs. "Am I?"

"Yes, you are. Has something happened?" I eye him suspiciously.

"Like what?" He can't stop the grin from appearing on his face.

I shrug. "I dunno, like something with Bryn?"

His eyes flicker. "What do you mean?"

"Like a prank or something... Ugh, you haven't set me up again have you?"

Tal laughs. "Ah, my lips are tightly sealed"

And saying that, he scurries off and leaves me standing alone. Again.

I sigh. I always seem to be alone, don't I? I'm deliberately put on night watches, while everyone else gets to sleep. I'm rarely involved in decision making; in fact, I don't think anyone has ever asked my opinion. I'm just used to do Kelvin's dirty work, like putting up the tents or sorting out the supplies. It's like I'm just there as a personal slave. Or maybe I'm just too different to everyone else? I try not to be; I try acting the tough guy I'm meant to be, but do I really come off as a wimp? I know I can physically do things, but when it comes to it emotionally... Or is that I'm just un-liked? Am I like a rat, carrying a deadly disease or something?

"Am I really that unlikeable?" I throw my arms up, gesturing to the sky.

Maybe I am and maybe I'm not. All I really know now is that I'm not meant to be here in this pack.

Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV

My eyelids open slowly; tiny weights hanging from my lashes, desperately grasping on to that last wisp of slumber and fighting back the pull I inflict upon them. My sight comes back gradually, the darkened barrier before my eyes being lifted at a steady pace. When they are at last fully open, my vision is blurred.

Blinking several times, I clear my sticky feeling eyes. I rub the back of my hand across them, swiping away the stray drops of moisture that ripple my view.

I then look around me. Walls of dusty stone, cold grey floors and a ceiling that strangely looks stable; an obscure sight taking in the appearances of some of the other buildings I've seen here. I should be pleased about this; it's shelter, it's stable and it's dry. But something doesn't quite fit right in my mind.

I scan the surroundings once more, taking in all I see. As my eyes move over the cluster of bags and supplies, I realise what it is. Most of that stuff isn't mine.

Frowning in confusion, I stumble to my feet. The world spins beneath me and I have to pause, reaching with my hand to clutch my head that feels wildly out of control. As my fingers rest on what I think should be my hair, I discover something else odd. There is something strapped on to my skull.

My fingers rip it off and it lands in my palms. It's a leaf. A wide, flat leaf with pale veins running through the mossy green background. I run my fingertip along the smooth surface, then toss the leaf aside.

I take another step and have to stop again as the ground moves under my feet, sloping diagonally down, but I don't slip with it. I stay for a moment, pressing my weak fist to my forehead and scrunching up my eyes. When I open them again, someone walks into the room.

"Oh, so you're awake then" The person says, stating the obvious. "How is your head?"

I stare at them blankly. Who are they? Why are they here? And why does it sound like they've been waiting for me to wake up?

It takes me a few moments to stop the dizziness and recognise the person standing before me. Luna.

"I see you've taken off the leaf" Luna says. "Heidi said it had some sort of painkiller chemical or whatnot inside it, so I laid on your head. I wasn't so sure, but Heidi is the expert on herbs and medicines, I just know about growing crops and all that. Did it do much?"

Leaf. Heidi. Medicines. What on earth is going on? Have I been in a coma for days or something? And where is Elodie? Did she join us with another alliance while I was out of it?

"Erm, are you going to say anything?" Luna asks, walking over to me.

"Oh, sorry" I finally speak, rubbing my head. "I'm just a little confused. Where am I? And where's Elodie?"

Luna's smile vanishes. "Oh, you don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" I ask.

"I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but..." She takes a deep breath. "Elodie's dead"

My mouth turns dry. I try to move my lips to speak, but they remain firmly clamped together.

Luna comes beside me and touches my shoulder. I flinch, but don't push her away.

"I'm so sorry, Zephyr" She says softly.

I swallow hard. "What happened - how?"

"It was the earthquake, I think" She says. "Our shelter we were camping in began to tremble furiously and the ceiling started to come down. We managed to escape just in time, but as I got to my feet, I heard a canon. At first I thought it was for Heidi or Rhea, that maybe they'd got caught at the end, but thankfully it wasn't. It was getting dark and we decided to move on. Rhea spotted something as we were walking and I came over and saw someone lying on the floor, Elodie. Her body was still and she didn't look in a good way. We realised that she was dead, that the canon was for her and from the looks of it, she had fallen from the window above"

It all comes flooding back.

Elodie twisting her ankle. The sponsor gift. The argument.

The argument.

Raised voices, snappy comments. The house shaking. The window.

"Zephyr?" Luna's voice sounds worried. "Are you ok?"

"I'm ok" I lie. "I am completely fine"

Luna looks at me, her dark brown pools for eyes staring deeply into mine. She holds her gaze as she speaks.

"No you're not" She says. "I know you're jus trying to be brave"

I shake my head. "No, I'm fine really"

"Zephyr, you don't have to pretend to me. You don't have to hold back the tears"

My eyes drop. A single tear falls down my cheek, dripping off the edge of my chin and splashing as it hits the ground.

"Oh, Zephyr" Luna comes forward, her arms encasing my body like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Her body is warm against my cold heart and I allow my head to fall against her shoulder.

"It's all my fault" I say into her jacket. "Elodie died because of me"

"Don't blame yourself" Luna replies softly. "None of that was your fault"

"But we argued"

"Most siblings argue"

"But not just before one of them dies" My voice sounds choked. "I turned away and she called me back, but I ignored her. And then she fell. The last thing she heard was arguing and the last thing she saw was my back turned against her"

"It's not your fault though" Luna pulls back so that her face is in front of mine again. "You can't live your life blaming yourself for something you couldn't control"

"But you don't understand..." I try.

Luna's face falls straight. "Believe me. I do understand"

"How? How can you? You haven't had someone who was born the same time as you, shares the same blood, grown up beside you your whole life; and have them snatched away from you in a second"

"Maybe I didn't have someone as close as that, but I lost a lot too" Luna says. "My father was killed when I was young; my two younger sisters died of disease; my brother went too and then, to add to this, my mother killed herself from grief"

I say nothing.

"So yes, I do understand. I understand a hell of a lot more than you will ever do. I had everything taken away from me; everything. My parents, siblings, everything. The only one left was Ivy, and she was two" Luna's voice turns sharp. "You don't know what it's like to be left like that; to have to push aside your grief for the sake of keeping your little sister alive. A lot of the time I wanted to join them all, just to end my misery now and then. But Ivy kept me going; she kept me strong. And now, I'm here and I've lost her too. So don't say that I don't understand. Don't"

I don't know what to say. It came as such a shock to me that I feel I can't do anything, and nothing I can say will do any good.

"Zephyr, I'm sorry" Luna sighs. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh, I just got a little emotional. I know you loved Elodie as much as I loved my family; and I'm wrong to talk to you like that. I'm sorry"

I hold out my arms. "I'm sorry too"

Luna gives me a weak smile and we embrace, hugging each other tightly to stop our tears from creating a tiny pond of sadness between our parted feet.

* * *

**A/N- Aww, sadness. But we all like a bit of emotion, don't we? And wow... this is much shorter than I thought... oh well :D**

**Right, so I'm not gonna bother with the questions... So just let me know your overall thoughts on this chapter!**

**Ok, there is something I need to say. I've been thinking about myself and this story... I have put myself in a reader's shoes and realised that you might be a bit annoyed with my spread out updating... so I have decided to change. I have decided to be harsher on myself and work harder to update quicker! I'm aiming to update every 7-10 days, instead of the 14 day thing it seems to be at the moment... HOWEVER. As I'll be working my fingers off for you readers, I just ask one small favour in return. Could you all possibly review more? I've noticed a small decline in my reviews and it makes me feel like you're going off the story :( So if maybe if I had more reviews, then I'd feel better about myself and feel even more determined to write more! What do you say guys? Yes?**

**Anyways, before I leave you, I just wanted to say that the author collaboration I'm in has officially begun! Yayy!**

**Until next time...**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	21. A Life For A Life

**A/N- Tadaaa! See, I updated quicker! I can stick to my promise... but I'm not sure how long it will last... but lets cherish it for now :D**

**And also... I realised I haven't done a disclaimer in aaagggggeees... So: I do not own the Hunger Games, because if I did, then Katniss would have chosen Gale, not Peeta x**

* * *

Brooklyn Virgona, District 1 POV

I'm seething. The world is a field of luscious green grass and I'm a wild fire, burning and destroying everything in my path. The blades of nature shrivel and crumble at my mercy. Steam is literally pouring from my finger tips and flames licking out from my head. My eyes are daggers that will stab anyone that gets in my way.

So yes, I'm not happy.

"Brooklyn!" Kelvin calls after me.

"Go away Kelvin!" I shout without looking back.

I hear footsteps behind me; heavy, running footsteps. A strong hand grabs my shoulder; I try to shrug it off, but the fingers dig in deeper to my bone. The hand pulls me round.

"Get off me" I snarl at Kelvin.

He shakes his head. "No, you'll just run away again. I want you to just stay still and calm yourself"

"How can I when you're pressing your knobbly fingers into my shoulder?" I ask, jerking my arm to release my trapped shoulder. But Kelvin's grip is strong and I'm confined to this position.

"Brooklyn, I know you're mad at me-"

"Mad doesn't even come close"

I feel a sharp pinch in my skin. "Brooklyn, you're overreacting"

"Pfft, I am not" I deny. "You wouldn't like it if _I _bossed _you _around and ordered you to do night watch with your worst enemy"

"Firstly, you are overreacting. Secondly, Bryn is not your worst enemy; she just knows how to wind you up." Kelvin says. "And thirdly, I didn't _order _you to do anything"

"It was hardly a friendly suggestion" I say.

"Yes, but I'm not forcing you" He says. "You're free to leave the alliance any time you want; I'm not stopping you"

With one precipitous tug, I free my shoulder from Kelvin's grasp and scowl at him. "You don't control this alliance, so you don't control me"

I turn sharply, flicking my hair so that it slaps Kelvin across the face and storm away.

Luckily, Kelvin doesn't follow me this time. Because I seriously think that I could murder him if he did.

Walking on, but not really sure where I'm heading, I pass the tents. They're all open; the flaps waving, propped up by spindling looking sticks and rippling in the gentle breeze of the day.

I pass them and continue on until I reach the well. And Ray. His back is facing me and he's leant over the well, pulling on the rope that brings up the bucket. I also don't fail to notice that he's shirtless, his vest top tossed to the side as if it's of little importance. The muscles in his bare back twitch as he pulls up the bucket.

"Hey, Ray!" I call over to him.

He turns around and raises a hand in greeting.

"Hey, Brook_lyn_" He says, winking.

"Well done, you managed to say my name" I say in a patronizing voice. "We're getting there"

As he stands, one eyebrow raised as if to say _'don't patronize me'_, I allow my eyes to freely scan his bare torso. It's pretty impressive- for someone from an outside district. His skin smooth, not a curl of hair and deep carvings to show off his muscles. As I said, pretty impressive.

"Forgot something when you got up this morning, Ray?" I gesture to the abandoned t-shirt.

He grins. "Haha, no. I'm getting a wash actually; it's quite warm out today"

"Hmm, I did notice an increase in the temperature when I got over here"

"Ah" He winks. "That'll be the heat radiating off my abs"

"Oh, I thought it was just the angle of the Sun" I say mockingly. "So, where are the others?"

"Bryn, Tal and Ren are off hunting tributes" Ray says. "I'm here, you're here and Kelvin's somewhere in the camp I'd guess"

"Probably polishing his ego or something" I shrug.

Ray laughs. "He is a bit bossy, isn't he?"

"Bossy? Talk about understatement of the Games"

"Why? You to fallen out again?"

"You could say that"

"What's he done this time?"

I roll my eyes. "Oh, you know, just the usual throwing his weight around and pretending he owns the place"

"Ah, I bet you gave him a piece of your mind" Ray guesses.

I sigh. "Actually, I wasn't that bad. I only made a few comments and walked off"

Ray claps his hands in an applause. "Wow, well done Brook-"

"Brooklyn"

"_Brooklyn_, sorry"

I smile, glad that I seem to have some power over Ray.

Ray turns back to the well and carries on pulling the rope, his biceps contracting and relaxing as he brings up the bucket. I stand and watch for a few moments, then movement from the tents grabs my attention and I look over.

At first I think it's another tribute coming to steal our stuff. A girl came the other day apparently, but Bryn and Tal let her escape. Stupid idiots. If I were there I'd make damn well sure that the thief ended up being taken away by a hovercraft.

Reaching for the bow that is attached to the back of my jacket, along with a set of neatly polished arrows, I look to the person. They don't seem to have noticed me. _Where is Kelvin? He should be there to stop this plotting thief..._

The tribute's head rises and I stop reaching for my bow. It's the devil himself, Kelvin.

I watch as he looks around, then disappears into one of the tents.

"Ugh" I say out loud.

"What?" I hear Ray asks.

I turn around.

"Just saw Kelvin, that's all" I say. "He has that effect on me"

"And what effect do I have on you?" Ray asks, daringly as he splashes cool water onto his bare chest.

"Well..." I pause. "That depends on whether you're wearing a shirt or not"

His top lip twitches, but he holds back the grin.

"When I am wearing one?" He asks.

I shrug. "You're kinda annoying, but I pretend to put up with you for the sake of my sanity"

"Ok... so what about when my shirt's off?" He asks, seemingly not offended by my comment. "Does that change anything?"

I lower my voice, so it sounds husky and seductive. "Oh yes. It changes _everything_..."

I half expect Ray to start grinning uncontrollably, but he actually keeps his cool. I'm surprised, but I don't show it. I'll just have to turn it up a notch or two.

"I don't know why they say you're not a real Career" I say, running my fingers delicately across his chest. "Your body certainly thinks you are"

Ray takes this as an opportunity to flex a bicep. "Ah, you know. The dedication pays off in time"

He's inviting me; deliberately showcasing his muscled arm to lure me in. He likes attention. He wants attention. So why not give him what he's hankering for?

I extend my arm and rest my hand across his bicep. My fingers gently squeeze into the solid muscle.

"Hmm, quite good" I report, removing my hand. "Got some pretty decent stuff there"

"And so do you, by the looks of it" His eyes wander down to my legs. One of my best features, I must admit.

Many a time have I been complimented on my toned thighs and calves. And even the shy boys who struggle to even wave a hand in greeting, they oggle. They'll probably deny it, but I've seen them. I have eyes in the back of my head.

"Ooh, is that a compliment, Raymond?" I ask. "I don't believe I've ever heard you say anything nice about someone other than yourself"

"You're right; I don't usually like to dish out compliments" He drops his voice." But maybe you should start getting used to them"

He steps in and bends his head towards mine. His eyelids close gently and his lips start to pout. It's obvious that he wants to kiss me.

But should I let him? I suppose I have been leading him on...

I raise one finger and press it to his damp lips.

"Hold your horses there" I push him back. "We don't want to rush into anything, now do we?"

Ray looks at me, both hurt and embarrassed, but covers it up with a casual shrug.

"That's fine with me" He says. "I just thought that was what you were angling at"

"Maybe I was and maybe I wasn't" I say teasingly. "But then again, you boys will never truly understand the desires of a girl"

"I'm an easy learner"

"Then learn this: patience is a virtue" I add a little smug smile to the end of the sentence.

Ray leans back on the well. "I can wait. It's you I'm worried about"

"Oh, believe me" I reply. "I can wait a hundred years for my Prince Charming"

I turn to leave.

"Just give me a shout if you ever want to wake up" Ray says to me. "I offer pretty good true love's kisses"

I can't help the little smile that grows on my lips. Saying nothing in return, I continue to walk away.

Movement catches my eye. I look over and see the body of one of the tents rippling and the entrance flapping open.

Kelvin emerges and instantly looks in my direction. He must be checking if I'm still with Ray.

I feel a rush of annoyance. Is he checking up on me? Really? Because, seriously, that is pathetic.

So, only thinking out of irritation I quickly turn on my heels, walk up to Ray and plant a kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

Now Kelvin has something to look at.

Ray, whom I caught off guard, recovers quickly and follows the flow of the kiss. At first it's simply a soft moment on the lips, but as I peep over to Kelvin and see the expression on his face, I'm determined to make it more.

I push harder, deepening the kiss, much to Ray's delight. In fact, if it weren't for this being to wind up Kelvin, I think I would enjoy this. Ray's not too bad. For an egotistic wannabe.

Eventually, Kelvin decides he's seen enough and flees back into his tent. I take this as a chance to break away from Ray, before he starts thinking we're a couple or something.

Ray daps his lips with his tongue, a look of satisfaction present on his face. "I knew it was you who was the impatient one. I could sense that you wanted me from the moment we first met"

"Oh really?" I ask, not convinced. Pfft, in his dreams. He's not that irresistible.

"Yup" He, however, sounds sure. "And that just proved it"

"Well" I pat him on the shoulder. "You've got some homework to do if you think that's what's going on inside my brain"

Ray goes to reply, or probably say some other arrogant comment. but I simply turn and walk away before he does.

He doesn't come after me, which I half expected he would. It seems that he does have some sense in that skull of his.

I guess I should be feeling a little guilty for leading him on like that; he'll probably think I'm really into him and start spreading it around. But what's the point in guilt? It's just to wind up Kelvin; Bryn and Tal pull pranks all the time and they don't feel guilty. And also, so what is Ray spreads it? That would actually be a better result. If I wanted to keep it a secret, I would have kissed Ren instead.

The thought of kissing Ren runs though my mind. And thinking about it, it wouldn't really be that bad. Yeah, Ren is a little awkward and weaker than the others, but he's still pretty good. I've seen him in training, he's quite sharp with spears. And also, he's not bad looking either. A little pretty for me; with his cute curls and dimpled cheeks, I prefer a darker, more mysterious kind of guy...

"Brooklyn" A dark voice comes from somewhere to my left. Haha, convenient. What a coincidence.

"What, Kelvin?" I turn and see Kelvin standing in the entrance of his and Ray's shared tent.

"I saw you" He says.

"Ooh, now isn't that weird?" I say sarcastically. "Fancy seeing your ally at your camp? How odd..."

"Enough with the sarcasm, Brooklyn" Kelvin says. "I mean, I saw you kissing Ray"

"You were supposed to" I reply. "And why does it matter anyway?"

"I'm not happy about it"

"Why not? You don't own me"

"It's not that..."

"What? Romance is illegal? Because if so, then I'd go and interrogate Bryn and Tal if I were you. There is no way they haven't done anything. I mean, have you seen them together?"

"I'm not talking about them"

I start to nod slowly, as if I understand. "Oh, I see it now. You're jealous"

His face turns slightly red. "I'm not jealous. Don't be ridiculous"

"Then why did you look crushed when you saw me kiss Ray? Or is it Ray you're after?"

"I am not gay and do not fancy Ray. That goes to you too"

"Oh, so you're a-sexual then?"

"No!" He protests. "I'm straight, ok? But I don't have a thing for you"

"So you shouldn't be bothered about me and Ray then" I say.

"No. Yes. Yes, I am bothered" He stutters.

"Why? You must be jealous then"

"I'm not jealous! I'm just...I erm...I'm..." Kelvin struggles to form his sentence. Which is a change. "I just...I don't...um, I mean I..."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Oh for goodness sake!" He snaps. "I can't be doing with words"

And then he crushes his lips onto mine.

I'm so shocked that it takes me a few moments to realise what's happening. Kelvin's kissing me! But as I try to push him away, I find that I can't. I physically can't bring myself to do it.

So we kiss. A long. full on kiss. My heart beats louder as Kelvin's scent pours onto me. I feel like I want him, like I need him. It's such a strange feeling. I'm supposed to hate his guts, but instead I'm kissing the crap outta him?

What has gotten into me? Is this a new feeling? Or has it always been there and has only just been discovered?

Guthrie Zython, District 8 POV

"There must be another water source somewhere in this arena" Annabeth says surely. "They can't just have one well, we'd die off like flies and the games would be over within a couple of days"

"Yeah, the Careers would be the only ones left, seeing that they've conveniently set up camp around the well. And anyone who tried to get near the water would be slaughtered" I agree.

"We weren't" Annabeth points out. "But I guess we were just lucky. Although I swear that was a one off; don't ask me to do anything like that again"

"You made the final decision" I remark. "Anyways, there must be like a river or something"

"There's probably one here in the forest" Annabeth says with optimism.

I nod my head and we continue walking, stepping over fallen branches and tree stumps, also avoiding low branches that threaten to slap my face. I've hit a few of them and now gained a handsome scratch across my cheek. Well, that's what Annabeth tells me.

"Hey, you know if that did happen and the Careers were the only ones left?" Annabeth says. "Which one do you think would win?"

I think for a moment. "Probably either the big guy from Two or the vicious girl from One. They're the toughest and seem to have had the most training"

"Hmm, yeah. But what about the girl from Two, Bryn? She's pretty amazing with those knives and hardly ever misses; well the only time I've seen her miss was when she threw one at me yesterday, but I was way ahead" She suggests. "Also, she looks like she could easily outrun the others"

I kick a branch. "Nah, I reckon I could take out the lot of them" I punch the air in front smoothly. "Bare-handed, with a blindfold"

Annabeth laughs. "Of course you could, Guthrie. The first tribute to win the games with no weapons and a blindfold. You'd be a legend"

"I'm already a legend"

"Whatever you say"

We keep walking for a while, aimlessly, just wandering in and out of trees. My stomach starts to rumble lightly, politely asking for food, rather than the angry cries I felt the other day. I pull my bag off my shoulder and unzip it. The wonderful sight of green apples greets my hungry eyes. I reach in and grab one.

"Want an apple? I'm having one" I ask Annabeth, who is now walking slightly ahead, navigating us both.

"We should save them"

I huff. "Ugh, what's the point in having food and not eating it? It's just one apple; I won't eat the whole bag"

I hear her sigh. "Oh go on then, but throw me one too"

Grinning with satisfaction, I toss her the apple and take another for myself. As I bite into the apple, the smooth skin tears and my teeth sink into the crunchy but moist inside. I let it rest on my tongue for a few moments, letting the sweet flavour soak into my taste buds and savour it for as long as I can before my teeth can't resist another bite.

I end up chomping my way through the whole apple in no time, leaving just the core and pips. And it's literally just the core and pips; I've eaten every last scrap of apple. Unsure of what to do with the core, I just shove it into the bag. I don't want to leave any evidence behind; if the Careers see the apple core, they'll know we took it and will be straight onto following our tracks. Thinking about it, I hastily scuff up some leaves with the toe of my boot, just to be sure that we haven't left a trail behind.

I twist my head and look behind me. There seems to obvious track, so I turn back and almost crash into the back of Annabeth.

"Whoa, you could have warned-" I start saying, but Annabeth hushes me sharply.

"Do you hear that?" She whispers so low that I have to lean closer to hear.

I listen.

The sound of a gentle breeze that catches on hanging leaves and whistles through branches is the first thing I hear, but I doubt that's what Annabeth means. I listen again. This time I hear the light scurry of birds in the trees above us, their wings brushing against the crispy leaves. Alas, I also think that that's not what Annabeth is talking about. It must be something like...running water.

I instantly recognise the sound of constant flowing water and feel almost like cheering. She was right; there is another water source!

"Hear it?" Annabeth says, her voice still hushed.

I nod slowly and whisper back. "A river"

A smile forms on her lips and she steps away from me. She looks around, waiting for a moment and then takes off in a direction.

I follow her, my steps right behind hers.

We walk through a thick patch of trees, their trunks packed together and their leaves merged. It seems like we're going into deeper forest, until I notice a clearing through the trees.

"Annabeth" I tap her shoulder in front. "Look to your right; there's a clearing. The river might be there"

She turns her head. "Oh yes, I can see it! It looks like a stream or something"

She picks up her speed, racing to the water. I start jogging too and we soon push through the foliage, emerging out into the open space.

And sitting a few metres ahead, is a narrow river.

Annabeth heads straight for the water, throwing her bag to the ground and wading in. She turns and looks to me, her arm waving for me to join her.

Smiling, I drop my bag next to hers and tear off my jacket. I leave it behind on the floor, draping across the bags and run towards the river.

Water sloshes at my feet, seeping into my trousers and cooling my legs. It's fairly warm today, not scorching, but enough to get you sweating while out walking. I greet the slight chill gladly, letting it soak into my clothes.

I wade over to Annabeth, the flow of the water slowing me down a little. It feels like I'm walking in solid metal boots; heavy and dragging across the stoned bed.

"I would take my boots off, but the bottom looks sharp and full of stones" Annabeth says, looking down.

"Well I hope the water cushions your landing" I grin mischievously.

Annabeth looks at me for a second, puzzled, but soon realises my motives as I step towards her and throw my arms out, pushing into her shoulders. She squeals as she falls back, her body plunging backwards into the water. She sinks down, her head just above the surface of the water as she sits on the stony bed. Her face is scowling.

"You're gonna pay for that move, Guthrie!" She says, struggling to her feet.

I laugh as she tries to stand, her arms splashing in the water uselessly and her feet slipping and sliding all over the place.

"Stop laughing! It-" She spits out some water. "isn't funny!"

This makes me laugh even more and she starts scowling again, but not seriously. And as she trips backwards once more, her hand shoots out and grabs my arm, forcing me down with her.

"Ah!" I let out a shout as I fall down with her.

My bottom hits the water with a slap and an uncomfortable dampness greets my skin. I shut my eyes tightly as water sprays my face and enters my mouth. I spit it out.

"Ugh, I'm drenched!" I exclaim. "Why did you have to pull me in?!"

I wait for Annabeth for reply with something along the lines of _'serves you right'_, but she doesn't even speak.

"Hey, got water in your ears?" I look to her. "Hello? Are you there?"

Annabeth says nothing, her face has frozen.

"What?" I wave my hand in front of her eyes. "Are you ignoring me or something?"

She doesn't reply. I notice that her shoulders are shaking slightly.

"Hey, are you cold?" I ask. "You're shivering. Maybe sitting in a river isn't the best idea we've had"

"Annabeeetthh? Will you be a dear and _say something_?"

Her eyes don't even flicker. I know she's good at ignoring me; but not _that _good. So I follow her eyes, a diagonal stare upwards to the rest of the forest. I trace a line in the air with my finger and when I hit the trees, I stop and lower my hand.

Now I can see what she's staring at. The row of trees in front are packed full of jet black birds, similar to crows, only more vicious looking. They have jagged feathers, as if they've been through a shredder and their beaks are orange and pointed like spears. Their beady green eyes shoot daggers at us and send shivers down my chilled spine. And their long, curved claws tap the wood of the branches they sit on.

Careful to minimise my movement, I very slowly twist my head and look around us. They're everywhere. Clustered in compact rows, lined up along every branch in every tree, surrounding us in a prisoning black circle.

"Don't move" I say in a low, steady voice. "If we move, they'll-"

One of the birds, the biggest and probably the leader, lets out a searing screech. I wince as the high frequency sound vibrates in my ear drums, burying into my brain like a tiny drill. Next to me, Annabeth's face has drained, her skin now the same colour of snow in the dead of winter.

We stay completely still as the bird finishes it's cry, then watch in horror as it starts flapping it's thick wings madly up and down, signalling to the other birds. They all copy, shaking their wings angrily and shouting down to us.

Then they lift from the trees.

Annabeth lets out a high pitched scream as hundreds of birds soar up, before plummeting down towards us at top speed, their beaks pointed and their bodies streamlined. It's like a snow storm, only black and far, far more dangerous.

Knowing they'll hit within seconds, I jump to my feet and run towards the shore. But the water slows me down and I find myself having to throw myself to the ground to dodge the swooping birds.

The ground hits my face hard, my nose cracking painfully as it thumps the dampened shore. I think it's broken, but I have no time to check as I'm crawling up on to my knees and scurrying along the ground towards the bags, where my sword is waiting.

I reach the pile of bags and jackets quickly. The adrenalin pumping through my veins is enough to power a Capitol train, so I'm quick to find my sword. My hand closes around it tightly and I get to my feet.

A cluster of about five birds squawk and zip towards me, their green eyes focused on me as their target. My other hand grabs the rest of the sword's handle and I swing it upwards, slicing into the birds. Two of them let out cries of pain and fall to the ground, injured beyond help. I spit on them and begin swinging the sword again, taking down another bird. And another, and another, until there's a small pile of dead birds at my feet.

I spin around, facing the river once more. I look for Annabeth and find her soon enough. She's still in the water, but on her feet, splashing frantically as she tries to run to land. A crowd of birds swarm around her, dipping and diving to peck at her body. She screams as she throws her arms about, trying to swat them away from her.

"Annabeth!" I yell. "Get to dry land! I'm coming to help you!"

She seems to get my message and makes a break for it, almost galloping through the river towards the shore. The birds, who now seem agitated, follow her.

I take off, sprinting to the edge of the water where Annabeth is heading for. I slash the air as I run, fighting the birds that fly in my way.

I skid into the shallows of the water, standing near to Annabeth and cutting at the birds that fly above her. They scream and collapse to the ground, wings torn and heads sliced off, at mercy to my sharp blade.

Once they've all succumbed and fallen to the ground, my heart is racing ridiculously fast and sweat pours down my face. I look to Annabeth.

"Are you ok?" I ask her while panting.

Her voice quivers as she speaks. "Yeah, I think I'm alright. I was bitten quite a lot on my arms, but I don't think I've lost too much blood"

I walk beside her and take her arm. Her jacket has been sliced into and the skin of her arm underneath is red and raw, blood seeping out. But she'll live.

"It doesn't look too bad" I say. "We can band-"

She screams again and points behind me. "Guthrie! There's more!"

I turn just in time as a swarm of black birds swoop towards me. They seem agitated and therefore, more vicious.

I slash wildly in the air, hacking at the birds randomly. A few miss my sword and dive at my bare arms, ripping my skin with their sharp beaks and sending agony rippling through my body. I grit my teeth and carry on despite the pain.

I hear Annabeth's screams behind me. She's screaming my name.

"Annabeth!" I yell back, turning to see her.

But the water is disrupted and flowing madly in all different directions. So as I try to step, my foot gets lost in the current and I stumble forwards. I try to step again to prevent my fall, but my other foot loses balance and my body tumbles down.

Annabeth screams my name again and I look up to see her bow to the ground, a huge swarm of birds on top of her.

And then the world goes black.

Heidi Fitzherbit, District 12 POV

"So, what do think of him?" Rhea asks in a low voice. She means Zephyr, our new addition to the alliance.

"I met him a few times in training and he seemed quite nice" I shrug. "And he hasn't tried to kill us, so he seems pretty trustworthy"

"I suppose" Rhea sighs. "I'm still a little wary, but I guess I don't really know him. He's pretty strong, so that could help me seeing that you and Luna aren't the strongest of people..."

"Hey!" I elbow her arm. "I have my uses too! Without me you wouldn't have the knowledge on edible plants"

"Luna knows some stuff" Rhea grins. "In fact, she is from Eleven, so she does deal with crops"

I pout. "Stop making me sound like I'm useless. In case you don't remember, I did create this alliance, which makes me leader"

"And what a great leader you are, Heidi. By allowing the only rule we have be broken already"

I go to protest, but then stop myself. She's right. I have broken our only rule by letting Zephyr in. We were supposed to be an all girls alliance; to show that we don't need boys to survive...and yet, I've just been a complete idiot and gone completely against our policy.

I sigh. "Oh well, things change don't they?" I look behind to the two behind us. "Anyways, I could really say no. You can see how much Luna likes him; I wouldn't want to do that to her"

"Or, you're just too soft" Rhea says.

"I am not too soft!" I retort.

"Fine then, maybe it's because you fancy him then" She grins wickedly.

I feel my cheeks blushing. "I do not"

Rhea laughs. "Of course you don't. It's not like you check out everything in trousers; and it's not like Zephyr hasn't got anything to check out..."

"You sound like you fancy him now"

"Well I don't. I can't be doing with boys right now"

"Hey!" A call comes from behind us. It's Zephyr. "Are you two conspiring about me?"

"Nope" Rhea shouts back. "We're just discussing how much Heidi fancies you"

I could murder that girl. Right here. Right now.

We stop walking, Zephyr and Luna catching us up.

Zephyr stops opposite me, a cheeky grin on his face. "So, Heidi..."

I put my hand on his shoulder before he says anything more. "Sorry, Zeph. You're lovely and all that, but you're not my type"

Rhea snorts. "You have a type?"

Ignoring her comment, I look back to Zephyr. "Besides, even if I did, I wouldn't make a move on you. In training I promised Luna that I would back off and let her have you"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Luna's face turn bright red.

"No, we're just friends" Luna says quickly. "Just good friends"

"Oh, of course" I smile innocently. "Friends. My mistake"

Luna scowls at me while Zephyr starts to walk again. I give her an angelic smile in return and turn to follow Zephyr.

For the next half hour, we walk almost silently, breaking only to hear a bad joke cracked by Zephyr, who is really growing on me. He's actually really good to be around and I'm secretly glad I broke our rule and let him in. He adds a little spice to the alliance.

However, I've got to admit, his jokes get worse and worse.

"That was terrible!" Luna giggles. "How can you even call that a joke?"

"It's a classic!" Zephyr says back, grinning.

Luna rolls her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me. If they're the sorts of jokes you tell in Nine, then I'm glad I come from Eleven, where we tell some decent ones"

"Go on then, give me an example"

I cut through the middle of them, stopping their conversation.

"Ok, ok, that's enough you two" I say. "There is only a certain amount of bad jokes a girl can take in a day, and I think my ear drums are going to explode"

"So soon?" Zephyr asks. "But we haven't even started yet"

I narrow my eyes. "Seriously, I'm warning you now. If another bad joke comes out of your mouth, I swear I will-"

The sound of a canon halts my sentence.

We all freeze.

Then a rustle in the bushes beside us causes me to break the silence.

I scream.

"Whoa, calm down Heidi" Zephyr holds up calming hands. "If there's anyone in there, then we're not going to defeat them if your piercing our ear drums"

I shut my mouth. "Sorry"

"Good" He nods and brings forth his spear. "I'm going to check it out"

"Zephyr, be careful" Luna says worriedly.

"I will" He replies, slowly stepping towards the bush, the point of his spear leading his movements.

We watch tensely as he stands before the bush and pokes his weapon into the clump of leaves.

"Nothing in here" He reports, but instead of stepping back, he walks through the bush and disappears from view.

"What is he doing?" Rhea says, shocked. "There could be Careers waiting"

"It's a trap" Luna says.

"He's risking his life for us"

"We have to help him" Luna rushes forwards.

"Wait!" Both me and Rhea call out, but Luna refuses to listen and also slips through the bushes.

I turn to Rhea. "Together?"

"Together"

We take each others' hands, gripping them tightly, and edge towards the bush. My heart is beating at a hundred miles and hour and my breathing is scattered. My feet shake as they step closer and closer.

"On three" Rhea whispers. "One"

I take a breath. "Two"

"Three"

And we infiltrate through the barrier of leaves and spiked branches.

I close my eyes as we push through and when they open again, we're standing in a clearing.

A small river flows by, its ripples being the only sound except the heaviness of my breathing.

My hand slips from Rhea's as I look around. The ground is coated in thick, sticky pink gloop, which is broken up by small piles of mangled up black feathers.

Rhea pokes one with the toe of her boot and pulls a face. "They're all birds; dead birds"

Vile rises in my throat, but I swallow it back down again. "What happened?"

"I don't know, but my best guess is that someone else was here" She bends down and dips her finger in some of the pink gloop. "The blood is still warm, so whoever it was, they haven't been gone long"

"Or they might not be gone at all" I say, spotting two bent bodies a little way away. "There are two people over there"

"It's just Luna and Zephyr" Rhea says. "But I'm not entirely sure on what they're actually doing"

"Luna! Zephyr!" I shout over. "What are you doing?"

Luna looks up. "We've found a body"

"Dead or alive?" I ask, as if it's a completely normal question.

"Dead, we think" Luna replies. "She isn't breathing and she looks in a pretty bad state"

"She?"

"Yeah, I'm not quite sure who it is though. She looks kind of familiar; well, her hair does anyway"

"What's her hair like?"

"Long, blonde and curly. It reaches nearly down to her hips"

"Annabeth" I reply simply. "The girl from Eight"

Rhea, who is now standing near the edge of the river, pipes in. "She had an ally right?"

I nod. But I don't want to mention his name.

"Well I think I've found him" Rhea says. "He's lying in the river"

Without thinking about the state he might be in, I rush over to the river.

Rhea points down.

I look and see his body. He's lying on his stomach, but his head is turned to the side. His head isn't entirely covered by water, but it laps up, splashing into his nostrils, before pulling back again.

"Help me" I say to Rhea, bending down and grabbing under the boy's armpit. Rhea looks at me for a moment, but reluctantly bends down and helps.

With our combined strength, we manage to drag the body from the water, despite the fact that his clothes are soaked through and add a lot of extra weight.

Rhea sits back, gasping for breath; she did do the majority of pulling, as she's by far the strongest out of us two.

But I bend over the boy. I was right; it is who I thought it was.

His eyes are closed and his lips pale blue. He doesn't seem to be breathing, but he's not dead yet. He can't be.

My hands find his neck and I press my fingers hard, searching for a pulse. I find one, but it's weak. Very weak.

Launching into first aid, well what I know of it, I begin doing some chest compressions. My wrists pound deep into his chest, pumping and pumping. I finish the round and bend my head down to his. Pinching his nose, I cover his mouth with mine and puff a few breaths down. I'm practically kissing him, but I'm concentrating too much on saving his life that I don't really pay much attention to his lips on mine.

"C'mon, Guthrie" I say through gritted teeth, back on to chest compressions. "Don't die on me; my whole reputation is on the line now..."

"Heidi? What are you doing?" Luna comes over, Zephyr by her side.

"What... does... it...look like?" I say though deep breaths. Saving someone's life is exhausting. I've practised on sacks of flour at home, but never on a real person. Dylan would never let me try on him, but that's the sort of loving brother he is. I guess he was afraid that I'd end up giving him a heart attack or something.

Luna turns to Rhea. "Does she even know this guy?"

"Yeah, he's the one from Eight. You know, the dude she kept flirting with every time she saw him"

"Ohh... her _'soul mate'_?"

I look up, my hands still pumping. "Guys...now is...not the...time..."

Looking down once more, I focus on Guthrie. _Come on, please wake up_...

And as if I possess mind powers, Guthrie moves beneath my hands.

His eyelids flutter open and he starts to cough, his body jerking as mouthfuls of water spout from his mouth.

I feel a wave of relief pass through me and my shoulders relax, my wrists still aching.

Finished coughing and spluttering, Guthrie looks to me. "Heidi? What happened?"

"It's kinda a long story..."

"Basically, she saved your life" Zephyr answers simply.

"Why?" Guthrie looks to me. "You should have left me to die; that's the point of the Games"

"But you saved me once, remember?" I say gently. "A life for a life"

* * *

**A/N- Ah, yes. Another death. It was time, I'm sorry. We shall miss Annabeth, we shall indeed. Sorry to those who liked her and Tessabelle94 for submitting her. She was a really lovely tribute :D**

**Right, so instead of four POVs, I went to three in this chapter. But it was already too long before I started the fourth, so I shall leave that to another chapter. I hope it didn't disappoint anyone :P**

**Ok, so thoughts on this? Were you expecting Annabeth to die so soon? What about Guthrie, is he going to be another addition to the Girls Alliance? And do you think something will happen between him and Heidi? And finally, what do you think about Brooklyn, Ray and Kelvin? Is there a potential love triangle?**

**Next chapter will be up soon, as it will be a short one x Thanks for reading and reviewing and lets try to get it to 100 reviews! Whoever gets in the 100th review I will give the opportunity to send any sponsor gift to a tribute of their choice! Ooh! Yes, it can be anything (be realistic though...) So get those reviews in!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	22. Outsiders: Nightgowns and Willow Leaves

**A/N- Ok, so as of the last chapter containing a death, it is time for another Outside chapter! This one will only a short chapter, as it only contains one person's view point. Wondering why it took me about a week to write this short chapter? Well, I was ill. Sorry. Had to stay off school and all that stuff...so yeah...**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy! xxx**

* * *

Will, (Annabeth's best friend) POV

I stand in front of the door. The door, with rusted hinges and a wonky handle. The door that creaks when you open it slowly, making it difficult when you play hide and seek or try sneaking up on someone when they're not looking. The door that acts as a barrier between two worlds; the open world full of groans about cabbage soup and doing chores and then the private world, full of memories both good and bad. Any of those memories I would love to relive.

I go to knock on the door, but then remember in time that no-one's in there. She isn't in there.

Retracting my hand, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to pull myself together. It's just a door. Just a simple, average door.

My hand rests on the handle, my fingers wrapping gently around it's slender frame. Taking a deep breath, I pull it down and the door groans, before releasing from it's stuck position. I push it open and smile at the familiar creak of the old hinges. I need a bit of familiarity, since everything else I knew has been wiped away.

As I step through the doorway, a gush of cool air swamps over my body. This room was always cold; she'd constantly complain about the windows being as thin as paper and how every night in the winter she'd fear that she would wake up trapped in an ice cube. That, of course, didn't happen.

I let the door fall free from my grasp and it slowly closes behind me; the groan finally coming to a rest as the wood slots back into the frame.

I stand still. My arms hang down by my side, my fists clenched not out of anger, but as a way to stop myself from crying. I've cried enough already.

My eyes flick slowly around the room, almost cautious not to break anything. But how can I break something I haven't touched?

The room seems as normal as ever. The bed is freshly made, the pillow plumped despite it's lumpiness and the soft blanket tucked neatly under the flat mattress. The narrow chest of shallow drawers next to the bed is a bare landscape; she never liked keeping items on there, she was always afraid of knocking them off in the middle of the night.

I walk in further, stepping lightly to avoid creaks in the uneven floorboards. The room has an eerie silence, something that I'm not used to. But I guess I'll have to start getting used to it now.

Standing over by her desk, I run my fingers along the chipped wood. It feels rough under my fingers and I wonder how she used to write neatly whilst leaning on the surface. I know I certainly couldn't.

My fingers run off the edge and I walk away from the desk, heading over to her bed.

I don't want to sit down; I'm afraid I may crease the duvet and rub away yet another reminder of her. I want to keep everything exactly the same as she left it.

But what I see lying on the top of her pillow I cannot leave alone. It's her nightgown. Neatly folded, but still creased from the many nights she wore it. I know I shouldn't, but I can't stop myself from reaching out to it and taking the dress in my hand.

The material is soft, slipping through my trembling fingers and landing with a silent thud on my lap. I pick it back up, my fingers settled and capable of holding this reminder of her. The last time she wore this was ten days ago. Ten days.

You can't hold heat for ten days, but... I raise it to my nose. You can still hold smell.

I close my eyes as I breathe in her scent. I never noticed that she had a particular scent, it wasn't that strong before, but now that she's gone, I would recognise it a mile away.

A creak on the floor outside the room startles me. I drop the nightgown. It flutters elegantly before it lands by my feet.

"Will?" There's a gentle knock at the door. I hold my breath and it slowly opens and the face of Annabeth's mother peeps from behind it. She takes one look at me and sighs. "Oh, Will"

I stay sitting, my hands clutching onto the nightdress like a baby when they grab someone's finger for the first time. Never wanting to let go.

She walks to me, her face filled with empathy and her eyes almost hollow. She sits down on the bed and I feel it dip as she puts her weight on the flimsy mattress.

"She's had that since she was twelve" She gestures towards the nightdress.

I don't reply.

"We bought it before her first reaping, " She continues. "We said it would help chase away bad dreams"

I rub my thumb across the dress. "I could do with something like that"

"Keep it" Her hand rests on mine. "You need it more than I do"

I manage a small smile, one showing my gratitude.

"Annabeth was really fond of you" She starts to speak again. "Every time she saw you, her little face would light up, like you were an early birthday present or something"

"Or something..." I mutter.

"What was that?" She looks at me. "I didn't quite hear that, sorry"

I shake my head. "Nothing. I was just saying that I really liked her too"

"I know you did, Will dear. We all did"

"No. I mean, really liked her. Like..." I pause, then say in a lower voice. "Loved her"

Annabeth's mother goes to say something, but I stand up and she closes her mouth.

"Sorry, Mrs Rylie" I head for the door. "I have to go"

Saying no more, nor waiting for a reply, I race out the door.

Stumbling down the stairs, I run down the narrow corridor and fly out the front door. It crashes as it closes suddenly behind me. But I don't turn back.

My fast walk turns into a jog, which turns into a run. My feet hit the pavement hard. The threadlike soles of my shoes absorb the rainwater from the shallow puddles left from the small shower of rain we had this morning and dampen my feet in both wet and cold.

I run on.

It's not until I pass the old willow tree that I realise that the nightdress it still in my hand. My fingers closing a tight fist around it's delicate material.

My feet stop running. I stand still, just staring down at the nightdress that hangs limply from my aggressive fist. This isn't like me.

Sighing, I drop my shoulders and slump over to the willow tree. The tree stands in the same place it always has; its arms drooped like mine and its thin, delicate leaves blowing off the end like extensive finger nails. The trunk of the tree is bowed; crooked like an old man.

The tree hold many memories for me. This was the place where I first met Annabeth. She was six and I was six and a half. I told her that exactly.

_"So, what's your name?" I asked the girl. She was quite pretty, with long blonde curls that framed her pale face. _

_Her cheeks dimpled as she replied. "Annabeth"_

_I laughed. "Anna Beth? You can't have two names!"_

_She giggled. "It's one name, silly"_

_"Oh right" I held out my hand. "I'm Will"_

_Annabeth, who's smile seemed to grow, took my hand and shook it gracefully. "How old are you? I'm six"_

_I was six too. I wanted to say I was seven so I'd be older than her. But instead, I said, "Six and three quarters"_

A small smile is present on my dry lips as I recall that first day. Annabeth was so different, yet so similar to how she is now. Well, how she _was_.

I let out a small breath as I dig my hands into the curtain of leaves and push them aside, creating a gap for me to walk through. The willow tree was always our meeting place. In Summer, Winter, Autumn or Spring; whatever the weather, we would always meet up at the willow tree. It was like a sacred place for us; a place where we thought no-one would find us. Not many people walked around there; it was pretty deserted, making the perfect place for a hideout.

After a few years, Annabeth's new friend, Lila, joined our group. She was nice enough, so we showed her the willow tree. I never told Annabeth, but I didn't really want Lila to play at the willow tree with us. I felt like it was our own place and felt invaded when Lila was told. But that was when we were younger; you're always possessive at that age.

Standing under the umbrella of willow leaves, I'm cascaded with memories and warmth. The air outside was cooler, still lightly damp with the remainders of the morning rain; but under here, everything seems warmer.

I hang the nightdress on one of the branches and walk over to the centre of the tree, the curved trunk. Over the years the bark has worn, scratches becoming deeper and little dints where birds have pecked at it.

I scan over the trunk, searching for the carving. When we first met, Annabeth and I scratched our names into the trunk of the tree. Later on, when Lila came along, she carved her name in under ours. But looking now, I can't find it.

I frown. It was always there; just under halfway up the tree. We weren't tall enough to reach higher. Maybe it was further round the tree.

I walk round the tree, expecting to find the carving. But I find something else first.

It's Lila. She's sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest and her back leaning against the trunk of the tree. In her hand she's shredding a willow leaf.

"Lila?" I say gently, not wanting to startle her.

She looks up and gives me a weak smile. "I was wondering when you might come"

I sit down beside her. "I've been wanting to come for days. But I couldn't bring myself too"

She nods. "I know what you mean. Every time I've come here, I kept expecting to see her waiting for me, complaining about my lateness or something"

"You were always late though", I point out. "Not by much, but Anna was always pedantic about everything"

"Yeah, she had a problem. Like OCD"

"OCD doesn't even cover it"

We fall silent.

Lila goes back to shredding her leaf and I turn to look at the carving.

It's there, still as clear as it was all those years ago. The wobbly letters that spell our names stain the old wood, a permanent scar of the memories.

"You never liked my name under yours, did you?" Lila suddenly asks.

"What do you mean?" I turn to her.

She raises her hand and with an extended finger, points to the carving. "You wanted it to be just your names, not mine"

I don't say anything.

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asks. "You could have just said"

I don't try to deny it.

"I felt bad" I admit. "You were Anna's friend and I didn't want to upset her"

"You could never upset her, Will" Lila says. "Even if you killed me; she couldn't hate you"

"Of course she'd hate me"

"She'd be upset at first, maybe even a bit angry. But she couldn't hate you forever, she loves you"

I go to say something, but those last three words stall me.

"She always loved you" Lila says.

I say nothing.

"And you loved her"

I turn away. I'm determined not to cry. Not in front of Lila.

"She told you, didn't she?" Lila says to my back. "She told you she loved you after the reaping"

I bite my lip.

"And what did you do?"

I squeeze my eyes shut.

"What did you do, Will?"

I gulp.

"I told her I loved her too" I whisper, so quiet that Lila can barely hear me. But she does, because she says something in return.

"Why leave it until the last minute?" Lila asks. "Why didn't you tell her before?"

I shrug. "I didn't know what she'd say. I thought we were just friends"

"How could you think that?" She says. "Could you not see how besotted she was with you?"

"No"

"That's because you were the same with her!" Lila exclaims. "You couldn't see because you were blinded by your own feelings"

I don't reply. The area under the tree falls silent once more.

I pluck a leaf from the tree.

_"Here, I have something for you" I say to Annabeth._

_She looks at me. "What is it?"_

_I plunge my hand in my pocket and pull the item out. I hold my hand to Annabeth and open my palm. A leaf from the willow tree lies crumpled on my hand._

_"From the willow tree?" She asks, taking the leaf. _

_I nod._

_"How did you get it?" She asks. "The tree is ages away from here"_

_"I took it before the reaping; like I do every year" I tell her. "I take one every reaping in the hope that it will be a lucky charm to stop one of us from being reaped"_

_"It didn't work today, though" She sighs. _

_"I'm sorry"_

_"For what? You didn't do anything"_

_"I know, but..."_

_"No buts, Will" She grabs my arms. "Don't ever think like that"_

_"I'm sorry... I just... I'm going to miss you so much" I say, tears welling up in my already misty eyes. "We were supposed to start building that hammock this weekend..."_

_"You could build it with Lila..."_

_"I don't want Lila, I want you!"_

_I shut my mouth. That wasn't supposed to come out like that._

_"You...want me?" Annabeth asks._

_I go to explain what I really meant, but then I realise that _was _what I really meant. _

_I nod slowly. "Yes"_

_Annabeth looks to me with wide eyes. She says nothing as I push a curl of hair from her face and took it behind her ear. All she does the whole time is stare. Stare at me with those clear, green eyes._

_I tilt my head and plant a soft kiss on her lips._

_For what seems like a long while, we kiss. Her delicate lips dance on mine as we embrace._

_My hand, which has snaked down to her thin waist, pulls her in closer. And her hand intertwines with my hair._

_It would have been the perfect moment if time wasn't limited._

_The door that swings suddenly open breaks us apart. A sharp cough from a Peacekeeper orders me to leave._

_"Will..." _

_"Shh", I rest a finger on her lips. "Remember me like that. Just remember what you need to come home for"_

_Annabeth nods. _

_There's another sharp cough from the Peacekeeper. I know our time is up._

_Quickly thinking, I slip off my leather bracelet and thrust it into her dainty hands. Squeezing her fingers tightly around the bracelet, I give her one last little kiss on the lips and whisper in her ear. "I love you"_

_I then step back and walk away._

My eyes drift down to the leaf in my palm. It's the same colour as her eyes, beautiful and pure. But not quite as perfect as her.

I look at it for a few more moments, then shove it in my trouser pocket.

* * *

**A/N- Aww, was that sad for you as it was for me to write? Awww, young love :(**

**Anyways, so as usual leave your comments via review. Hmm... still not at 100... that depresses me. C'mon guys! I thought we had a thing going? I write, you review? Yes? Pleeeassse? And the sponsor gift still stands for the 100th review! Although, the guest who reviewed 97th may get that sponsor gift they wanted if you don't review in time... So if you want that oppertunity to send any gift (within reason) to any tribute then get REVIEWING! You've got to be in it to win it :D**

**Thanks and I hope the reviews come flooding in! I really like reading you're comments and it helps me as a writer. Oh, and if you have any suggestions or questions about the story, then feel free to say in you review! **

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	23. The Storm Part 1

**A/N- Cooee readers! Are we ready for the next installment of the story? Well, after our break outside last chapter, it is now time to come back and see how our dearest tributes are doing in the arena... And as this is a big event, which turned out longer than I expected, I'm splitting it into two chapters, part 1 and part 2... So without further hesitations... I present to you... The Storm Part 1!**

* * *

Tal Fontaine, District 4 POV

"So Ray found someone's token?" I ask, picking up a rather heavy box. It strains my arms as I haul it on top of another.

"Yeah, an ivy wreath." Ren replies knowingly. "He found it the other day when him, Kelvin and I went out hunting."

"Who do you reckon it belongs to?"

Ren shrugs. "Not sure; I didn't really notice anyone with it. Could be any of them."

"They might not even still be alive." I point out. "Kelvin and the others may be on some wild goose chase."

"Yeah, they might be." Ren pauses for a moment. "But I suppose it's a good thing."

"A good thing?"

"Well it gets Brooklyn out of camp, so that's got to be a good thing. That girl can't half shout."

I roll my eyes. "Tell me about it. And it also eases Bryn's tensions. She's always calmer when Brooklyn's not around."

Ren nods as he places an apparently empty box on a tower of similar boxes, adding to the wavering stack that threatens to fall and demolish all of our hard work.

Turning to the right, I get ready to pick up the next box. Curling my fingers under the tough plastic container, I tense my arms and heave. The box lifts by a mere inch. My arms ache.

"Need any help?" Ren stands on the other side of the box.

I nod gratefully and he bends down, taking the weight from the opposite side and relieving the stress from my arms. We count to three and stand, bringing the box up from the floor.

Stepping sidewards, we shuffle along to the pile and slide the box on top.

"Having some boy bonding time are we?" The sound of Bryn's famous sarcasm comes from the entrance of the Cornucopia.

I turn on my heels and focus my eyes on the fragile silhouette of Bryn; except she's not really that fragile at all... From the dry sarcasm that comes from her mouth on daily basis and the way she always has a belt of knives around her hips, I know that she is far from fragile. "We're just sorting through supplies."

"Just on the last box now." Ren adds. "This one weighs a lot more than you'd think for an empty container."

"Are all the boxes like that?" Bryn asks.

"Yup." I nod. "But it's nothing us lads can't handle."

"Ooh, so strong..." Bryn wafts her hand infront of her face, immitating a fan. "I think I may swoon."

Ren chuckles. "Make sure to catch her, Tal. She might reward you later."

Although he didn't say anything directly, it sounds as if he's hinting that me and Bryn have something...going on, and that makes my cheeks flush pink. I have the tendancy to blush at the slightest awkwardness, which seems to be all the time lately. And the other boys teasing me about Bryn doesn't help the situation either.

"Aww, look, he's blushing." Bryn comes over and pinches my cheeks in a patronizing way, even though I'm older than her by two years. "Did Ren embarrass you?"

I shrug her off. "No, why would he have?"

Bryn raises her neat eyebrows. "I was just kidding, there's no need to push me off like that. You get so touchy."

I feel Ren's hand pat my shoulder. "Ah, that's just the way she likes you, Tally boy."

Bryn laughs, smiling at Ren. "Always hitting the nail on the head, aren't you Ren?"

"Well, that's me," Ren holds out his arms. "I know people."

He knows people. Or... does he know things _about _people? They both seem similar, but they can mean the line between a secret and a gossip story. And the way he's acting with Bryn right now suggests that he knows something. About me. About me and Bryn.

A horrible feeling sinks to the pit of my stomach. What has Bryn been saying?

"Right," Ren speaks. "I'm off to get a wash before the rest of the clan return. So I'll leave you two to...catch up."

And with a quick smile, he walks away and leaves me standing awkwardly with Bryn. But surprisingly, I'm not blushing.

I seize the oppertunity and waste no time in jumping straight to the point.

"What did you tell him?" I ask Bryn sharply.

She gives me a bemused expression. "What are you on about?"

"You know what I'm talking about." I answer bluntly. "What did you tell Ren about us?"

Bryn's puzzled look melts into a sly grin. "Oh, you know...things. This and that."

I narrow my eyes. "Don't play games, Bryn. What exactly did you tell him?"

"Oh, nothing you need to worry your pretty little face about."

I grit my teeth, ignoring the reference to my 'pretty' face. Sometimes, just occasionally, this girl drives me up the wall. Metaphorically.

"Did you tell him about the kiss?" I ask her straight.

She frowns. "What kiss?"

I sigh heavily. "You know what kiss."

She folds her arms across her chest. "No. I didn't tell him."

I raise a doubtfull eyebrow.

"Trust me, Tal. I didn't mention the kiss to anyone." She holds out her little finger. "I pinkie swear."

I glance at the finger and back to her face. "S'ok, I belive you."

She grins mischieviously at me. "If I did tell someone, would you be mad at me?"

I shrug. "Well, I guess I'd be a bit annoyed..."

"Why? Are you embarrassed? Do you regret it?"

I don't reply for a moment. I look at her questioning face; her eyes filled with curiosity and her lips pursed after speaking. Her perfectly smooth lips. Those lips that could speak such harsh words, yet kiss like a thousand daisy petals fluttering in the gentle spring breeze... It was only a short while ago that those lips were upon mine.

"Erm, Tal? Hello?"

I look up, startled. "Oh, sorry."

"I asked you a question."

"Oh right. Well, I um..."

Bryn cuts me off sharply with a sudden shush.

"Can you hear that?" She asks in a whisper.

I crane my neck to listen. At first I hear nothing, but then a violent hiss of wind outside catches my attention. It's a harsh wind. One that often comes before a twister. Not that I've ever experienced a twister before, I've just seen them on previous games.

Something blows across the entrance of the Cornucopia; no, not blows, flies. About six feet off the ground. I'm not sure what it is, but it definately strikes me as not a normal happening, and so I run outside, Bryn behind.

As soon as I step outside the shelter of the golden horn, I'm slapped a thousand times by a twisted, ferocious wind. It's cold. Ice cold.

"What the hell is going on?" Bryn asks.

I'm not sure whether it was rhetorical or not, but I answer anyway. "Not the slightest idea."

A yelp of anguish arises in the jumbled air and we look to see Ren, his arms flailing as he tries to grab hold of a tent that has taken flight.

"C'mon, we gotta help." Bryn pulls my arm. "The whole camp is gonna be destroyed if we don't try. We need to rescue as many supplies as we can."

I try nodding, but the wind is strong and it pushes against the crevice of my neck, under my jaw, and I have to stay put. But Bryn drags me off anyway.

We plough through the wind. It's deathly claws snagging at my clothes and almost tearing the skin off my bones. All the while, Bryn keeps a solid grip on my wrist. And I can practically feel her pulse against my own.

"I'm gonna let go now!" Bryn shouts in my ear so that I can hear her. "You grab everything you can from your tent and I'll go to mine!"

"Ok!" I say loudly over the howls.

Bryn releases my wrist and I instantly feel colder. It's strange, but I waste no precious time thinking about my possible feelings for her and crack on with the task at hand: securing a tent and it's contents before the raging waves of the air tear through them first.

Jogging up to the tent, I grasp out for the entrance flap, which ripples uncontrollably in the wind. I'm shocked that it hasn't been torn of yet. The coarse material slips through my fingers as I try to establish a grip on it. The wind now, which has picked up, stings my cheeks and spits in my eyes. Squinting to limit the daggers of rain entering my eyes, I swipe again at the tent. I catch it successfully, but my joy is short lived as a shrill scream cuts through the wind and straight into my ears.

My head snaps around, my eyes desperately searching for Bryn. I'm convinced it was her scream and she doesn't scream often, so she must be in serious trouble.

"Bryn?!" I call out to her, but the wind simply swallows my words.

I drop my grip on the tent and sprint towards where I think the scream came from. The force of the air pushes my body and I battle against it as I race towards the last tent.

I reach it, a bit slower than I'd hoped to, and see that the ropes that were tied to the nails in the ground have untied themselves. The tent is no longer secured to the ground and is free to flap around. Yet it doesn't fly away like the first.

Because something inside is keeping it down.

"Bryn!" I yell, slashing my hands at the tent to find an opening.

A strangled cry comes from within the collapsed tent and I feel my heart beat faster behind my ribs.

"I'm gonna get you out of there!" I shout to her, my hands almost numb from the cold. But I refuse to stop, even hesitate. I'm getting her out of there, even if I lose a finger or two.

I manage, with sheer determination, to find the opening and I thrust my hands inside, tearing a larger hole in the durable material.

Unable to get inside the tent, I use my hands to reach inside and feel around for Bryn. I also call her name a few times in the hope that she'll hear me over the madness and noise.

An ice cold hand snatches mine.

I pull back, dragging Bryn out with all my remaining strength. Her arm comes out first, then her head and finally, the rest of her body.

Her skin is pale, apart from the large gash that swipes across her forehead and drips crimson blood down her face. It looks bad, but I'll have to look at it later.

"Watch out!" Bryn screams and I duck, just in time as something flings over my head, missing it by inches.

I stand up again, pulling Bryn up beside me. "We've gotta get to the Cornucopia!"

She nods and tightens her grip on my hand.

And then we run.

Tearing through the storm, we sprint in unision across to the Cornucopia. We dodge incoming obstacles, almost tripping a few times, but never quite falling. The other always keeps them from hitting the ground.

The Cornucopia is within reach. We make one last leap of faith and fly into the golden structure.

Bryn's hand leaves mine as we crash to the floor.

When I lift my head, my temples are throbbing and my head is spinning. My body feels like it's been trampled under a couple of hundred elephants. But my heart is racing as fast as my breathing as I roll onto my back.

Bryn, who is on her knees, comes crawling over to me. The blood from her wound still pumps out, trickling down her white cheeks and staining her beautiful face. But she still looks perfect.

She says nothing, and neither do I, as she bends down and places her lips on mine. They're freezing cold, but I'm sure they'll warm up soon.

Rhea Blakemore, District 10 POV

"The wounds are getting worse." Heidi reports, her inspective eyes examining a particularly large cut on Guthrie's upper arm. "It looks infected."

"Badly infected?" I ask, feeling the slightest bit concerned for the boy, even though he's barely a stranger to me.

Heidi pauses for a brief moment, as if consulting with her herself, then answers, "Mildly infected."

I nod my head slowly. "So it's not a serious threat?"

"Not yet." Heidi replies, turning back to Guthrie. "Let me cover that up again; we need to keep the dirt out."

I leave the two of them; Heidi playing nurse while Guthrie sits still like a good patient. How touching.

I walk over to our other alliance members, Luna and the refugee, Zephyr. The Refugee is my nickname for him... it's pretty self explanatory. And Guthrie? Nah, he hasn't got one yet. He is yet to earn it.

When I approach Luna and Zephyr, they're just coming in from outside. A cool wind rustles through the battered door as they close it behind them. In his arms, Zephyr carries several small logs and large branches, presumably for firewood. Luna holds a bag, which looks like it contains some kind of dead animal. Dinner, respectively.

"Oh hi, Rhea." Luna spots me. "Good news: all five snares caught something."

She opens the bag for me to peek inside. I do so and find myself staring at five small creatures. They're all lying in a corpse-like heap, their bodies as still and as unhappy as you can get. Well, they were just killed in a small, handmade trap, so they would be feeling pretty deflated.

"What are they?" I ask, looking away from the bag.

Luna frowns. "Not sure, they look disgusting though. All their fur is matted and dirty; but I suppose we're only eating the meat inside."

At this point, Zephyr decides to join us.

"Brr, it's freezing out there." He says, rubbing his hands up and down his arms in a furious manner. "Talk about weather change."

"Yeah, I was getting ready to go out sunbathing." I say sarcastically.

"It started to get really cloudy as well." Luna adds. "We might be in for some rain."

"Or a storm." I suggest. "You know what Gamemakers are like; they love a good storm."

"If you're right, then we'd better hope that this building is stronger than the previous ones." Zephyr pats the dusty wall beside him. "Because I'd hate to have this thing collapse on me in the middle of the night."

"And wouldn't that be a shame?" I say. "Losing The Refugee."

Zephyr grows a grin. Luna looks puzzled.

"The Refugee?" She questions.

Zephyr lets out a short chuckle. "It's Rhea's nickname for me"

"Ohh... I see." Luna nods. "Right well, Mr Refugee, I'd appreciate it if you would assist me in setting up the fire."

"Yes ma'am." Zephyr salutes, then bending and picking up a pile of wood. Luna leads him to the centre of the room, where they begin sorting out the wood for the evening's fire.

I turn to the bag.

"You'd better taste better than you look." I mumble to the contents of the bag. The dead creatures don't answer. Of course.

I take the bag over to where the fire is being made. Sitting beside Heidi, I set down the bag and sigh as I lean against the wall.

"Hey." Heidi greets me half-heartedly.

I look to her through the corners of my eyes. "Why the long face?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Heidi shrugs. "I can't be happy and positive _all _the time."

"So you're just feeling down?" I ask unsurely.

She nods, but I'm not certain that she's telling me everything. There's something behind her eyes that suggests that something is wrong.

I nudge her shoulder. "Hey, what is it?"

She looks at me, then her eyes drop to the floor. "Nothing. That's it."

"No it's not." I insist. "There's something you're not telling me."

Heidi is an easy nut to crack, so she gives in without even trying.

"Fine..." She sighs. "There is something..."

"What is it?" I ask. "Is it something about Guthrie? Has he said anything to you? Because if he has, I swear I will knock him out for you-"

"No, he hasn't. " Heidi says, but can't help a tiny laugh from coming up her throat. "You'd really knock him out for me?"

I nod. "Yup. Then you could finish him off if you wanted to."

Heidi shivers. "I don't think I'll be killing anyone in these Games. I find animals bad enough."

"But what if you'll die if you don't?" I ask.

"I'll cross the bridge if I come to it."

I start thinking about what I'd do if I was faced with a Career, or any tribute ready to kill me. And although it's a horrid thing and I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life (whatever is left of it), I guess I would kill. I mean, I'd have to.

Thinking almost makes me forget about Heidi's 'something'. Quickly leaving my thoughts, I turn my attention back to Heidi.

"Ahem." I say sternly to her. "You haven't told me what's wrong yet."

Heidi's shoulders drop even lower. "Ok, well... you weren't wrong. It is about Guthrie."

I find my eyes wandering over to Guthrie. He's looking a little paler than before and his jaw is tense, looking like he's in pain.

"What about Guthrie?" I ask.

Heidi lowers her voice. "Well, you know how all those birds attacked him and...um...Annabeth..."

I push aside the image of the girl's slashed up body for the sake of keeping my stomach inside my body. "Yes? He was lucky to get out alive."

"Well," Heidi breathes. "You know how I said the gash in his upper arm was mildly infected?"

"Yes...?"

"Well I kind of lied... Sort of. Under exaggerated."

I frown. "So you mean that it's bad?"

"Really bad. " She confirms. "I'm not sure what, but something has gotten into the open wound and infected it. Guthrie can't really see it, but around the slit in his skin there is all this yellowy-green crusted stuff."

"Can you clean it?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Not with what we have. Water isn't enough; the substance has got in too deep already; it can only be brought out with some ointment or something similar."

"So... what does this mean?"

"It means that unless he gets treated, he won't last more than a day or two." Heidi says solemnly. "It's already affecting him badly now."

I look over to Guthrie. I can see what Heidi means, the way he's composing himself shows that he's not feeling the best he has. I can't see the wound, as it's covered in a piece of ripped material, but I can picture it in my mind. Deep, unsightly and deadly.

"Got that meat, Rhea?" Luna asks suddenly.

I hesitate for a moment, my mind jumbled, then quickly recover and pass her the bag. "Oh sorry, there you go."

The next few hours go by both quickly and uneventfully. It turned out that there wasn't much meat on the creatures, despite there being enough for one each. And that was sort of a good thing, as it was extremely bland and frankly, revolting. We all ate it anyway.

Now, with all the scrappy meat sat unsettled in our stomachs, we sit around the dwindling fire. The flames have shrunk a little, so Zephyr throws a few more branches on the fire and the orange glow flares up once more.

Heidi isn't her usual self; after her confession, she seems to have hushed a lot more than usual and her face shows the sign of a concerned young girl. Luna and Zephyr are their normal selves; Zephyr having cracked a few jokes about this and that.

And all the while, the wind howls outside and the cold air gushes in and out the tiny holes within the walls of the building. I was right, there was a storm coming. And a fairly bad one.

"How long do you reckon it will last?" Luna asks, the 'it' being the storm.

"Not sure, could be all night." I shrug. "I'm not an expert on weather."

"And I'm not an expert on medics," Guthrie suddenly starts speaking, "but I'm pretty sure that my arm isn't supposed to look like this."

Everyone's head's snap to face him.

The material that once acted as a bandage is flung to the floor and Guthrie sits, staring at his own arm. We all look too, and a gasp comes from Luna's mouth.

"Oh my gosh. What's happened to it?"

"It's infected. " Heidi chooses to answer the question. "When the wound was open, something nasty got into the gap and has entered the bloodstream."

Luna's eyes open wider. "Isn't that...dangerous?"

Heidi nods slowly. "It can be fatal."

At the word fatal, the room falls silent. Then, bravely, Guthrie speaks.

"I knew it. " He says, then looks to Heidi. "Why didn't you just tell me? Why did you hide the fact that I'm gonna die?"

"You're not going to die..."

"Stop it! Stop pretending that everything is going to be ok when it's not!"

Guthrie's outburst sends tears streaming down Heidi's face. She doesn't try to stop them, she simply lets them gush down her cheeks and drip off the end of her jaw. No-one says anything.

"I'm so sorry, Guthrie." Heidi says through sobs. "I was too scared to tell you. I didn't want to accept it myself, never mind make you."

"And I'm sorry for shouting like that." Guthrie turns soft again. "I just didn't know how to feel. But now I do. I know now that I've just got to hang in there for a few more days and hope..."

The sound of small bells ringing cuts him off. We all sit in silence. Our breaths steady. The ringing continues.

"I know that sound." Zephyr says. "It's a sponsor gift."

Luna gasps. "Really? How do you know?"

"Me and...Elodie... we had some soup sent a few days ago." He replies. "And this is exactly the same ringing that I heard before."

Luna jumps to her feet. "We have to find it."

I get to my feet too. "I'll help look. I'll check by the front of the room, and you check the back."

Luna nods and heads off in the direction of the back, while I head for the front.

I start by the window, the old wooden shutter is jammed shut using a slate of stone. I give it a forceful pull and bring out the stone, the shutters flapping open as soon as I do so. An instant gush of icy wind slaps my face and I strain my eyes to see through the sharp pins of raindrops. Quite soon the outline of a box comes into view. A small parachute hangs by a string from the handle of the box. It's most definitely a sponsor gift.

Without so much as a thought, I snatch up the box from the window sill and slam the shutters closed, jamming the stone to keep them tight. I then turn to the rest of the group and hold the box out in my hands.

"Guys, I've got it!" I announce, running back to the fire.

Luna rejoins us and everyone turns to face me.

I look at the silver box that rests on my lap. Carefully, I unfasten the latch and pull open the box. Everyone stares intensely and eagerly as I pull out yet another box.

Just as I go to open the next box, a small slip of paper falls out. It lands dangerously close to the licking flames of the fire and I have to grab it quickly before it's burnt to dust.

"What does it say?" Heidi asks.

I take the piece of delicate paper and dictate to the group.

"_Use it well, Nurse Fitzherbit. V_."

All the eyes in the room look to Heidi. I pass the unopened box to her. She takes it gratefully, her face looking a little shocked.

"For _me?_" She asks, as if there is someone else in the room with the surname Fitzherbit and who's dream was to become a nurse.

"Well your surname is Fitzherbit." I say. "Of course it's for you. Open it, you idiot."

Heidi wastes no more time and cracks into the box. The fastening is the same as the outside box and she gets it open in seconds. And once it's open, she just stares. And stares. And stares.

"What's in there?" Luna asks with much anticipation. "Is it something medical?"

Heidi only manages a small nod. She then passes the box to me without saying a word.

I take it and look at it's contents.

A roll of thick bandages, several large metal things that look like giant paperclips, a small bottle labelled _anti-poison_, several other things I can't name and a tub of ointment labelled _Guthrie_.

I look to Guthrie and smile. "It's your medicine."

* * *

**A/N- Ooh... eventfull... So yes, I was supposed to have four people's POVs in this, but I got carried away and had to split them. The next chapter will contain the other two POVs and will be a continuation of the storm, so it will be the same time as this chapter.**

**So, what did you think? Was it fairly dramatic? What are your opinions on Tal and Bryn? And what about Guthrie joining the Girls Alliance? Well, it's not much of an 'all girls' group anymore... Heidi is just too soft... And another sponsor gift! And yes, this was the gift from one of you readers! Many thanks to Regieturtle for being the 100th reviewer and sending in the first aid kit to Heidi. Do you think that was well deserved? And sorry to the guest who reviewed 97th, but Guthrie still benefitted from the gift... I hope you don't mind :D**

**Okaiis, so next chapter shall be up soon. Probably within the next seven days... But aplogies in advance if it's not, as it's my birthday this Friday, so I may not have as much time to write! Yay! I like birthdays :P**

**Keep reading and reviewing! I still need those reviews, so get typing in that little box under this note... you know you want to!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	24. The Storm Part 2

**A/N- Yes, so I mentioned last chapter, this would take a while longer to update. Indeed, it was my birthday and I had occasions to attend and all that birthday stuff, so thanks for being patient! **

**Ok, so as a reminder, this is set at the same time as the last chapter, hence the part 1 and 2. Ahum, so you might have deduced that this is a rather important part of the story as it has two parts, so you can maybe guess what may happen...? Yes? Well, anyways, you can just find out now :D**

**Disclaimer (because I feel the need to now): However great my impersonations of Ms Collins, I am not her. Sorry, I know I almost fooled you. But I digress, I am not the creator of the Hunger Games...and also, not the creator of these fabulous tributes either :( I feel so unpowerful right now...**

* * *

Raymond Periwinkle, District 5 POV

"Right, so the gate to the forest should be North West of camp." Kelvin states.

"How do you know?" I ask him. "I thought you'd never been in there before."

"I know what I'm doing, Ray."

"Ok, fine." I shrug. "You be the shepherd and we'll be your sheep."

Brooklyn, who walks beside me, raises her eyebrows in disapproval. I'm guessing she doesn't like being referred to as a sheep. Or maybe it's that she dislikes following Kelvin. Both could be true.

"_Oh, shepherd, guide your sheep through the arena_." I start singing in a low tune. "_Oh, guide them through thick and thin, ups and downs, night and day. Oh, shepherd, guide your sheep-_"

"Is that even a real song?" Brooklyn looks at me sceptically.

I shake my head. "Nah, just made it up now. Though it could be a pretty good song, don't you think?"

Brooklyn's unblinking expression begs the idea that she disagrees with me. Oh well. Who needs a girl's opinion? I know good song writing when I hear it.

"In fact," I raise a pointed finger in the air. "it could be the new Capitol theme tune. They could play it at all the reapings after the Treaty of Treason."

Brooklyn still doesn't blink. I'm surprised her eyes haven't dried up.

Shrugging, I go back to my singing. "_Oh. shepherd guide your sheep through the arena. Oh guide them through the winding streets and abandoned fleets_...of...um... fleets of grey...?"

"Wow, you are an excellent songwriter." Brooklyn says sarcastically. "I only wish your singing was as good as your song..."

"My singing is great, thank you very much." I defend myself. Although, I know I sound crap, I've never been able to sing. And I never wanted to either, singing is for girls...or gay boys. I'm only singing now because I'm bored, Kelvin is annoying me, and I wonder how long it will take until he explodes. "I think I have a very unique approach."

"Unique is definitely one word used to describe it. Although, I was thinking more along the lines of," She pauses for a moment, plucking the word out of her mind. "monotone."

"Monotone?" I question. I've never been the best with vocabulary.

"Unvarying quality; identical sounds; no change of pitch." She provides me with an array of definitions. "Basically, it sounds like one unchanging tone."

"What, like tone deaf?"

"Exactly like that."

"Oh."

The sound around us quietens once more. Kelvin, who isn't speaking for a change, rubs his slightly stubbled chin, a common sign of his confusion. We're probably lost. And Brooklyn just walks along silently, swinging an axe by her side, it's large and curved blade slicing through the air at a hundred miles an hour.

So I decide it's time to start singing again.

"Oh, shepherd guide your-"

"Will you shut up already?!" Kelvin suddenly stops and spins around to face us. "I've had enough of your ridiculous song and I am not your fucking shepherd, ok?"

Not fazed at all, as I was expecting it, I shrug casually. "What ever you say, _boss_."

"I'm not your boss." Kelvin replies, once more walking ahead.

"Sorry, master."

"I'm not your master."

"Ok, sir."

"Fuck off."

"Got it."

A small smirk is present on Brooklyn's face when we stop walking. I think she likes it when Kelvin gets pissed off, it gives her some sort of satisfaction or something.

I'm about to presume we're lost, but then I look ahead and see that we've reached the ominous gate. And it really is ominous. Huge, broad and lined with rusted iron bars. I run my finger along the metal and when I examine my finger, it's coated in a mix of orange/brown rust and grey/black dirt. It's like the gates you'd expect would cage a haunted house, or hold a prisoner who was forgotten and now is no more than just a pile of rotting bones.

It's awesome.

"How the hell do you open it?" Kelvin asks grumpily.

"Erm, push it?" I suggest unhelpfully.

Kelvin grunts. "It wouldn't move."

"Try bashing into it?"

Kelvin nods and takes a few steps back, then sprints forward and flings his heavy body into the gate. It makes a fairly loud crash, but that's just the metal bars crashing against the side of the fence. The hinges creak, but show no sign of release.

"It won't budge." Kelvin states.

Frowning, I walk up to the gate. "It must do. How do Tal and Bryn get in the forest?"

"I dunno. But not through the gate."

"You sure?" I ask. "It must be able to open somehow... maybe you didn't put enough force in the right place."

Taking this as an opportunity to show off my strength, in the hope that the cameras are on me, I step back a few paces and brace myself. This could go two ways: I could slam through the gate and humiliate Kelvin, or I could splat against the iron bars and end up with concussion. It's a 50-50 decision. But I'm a risk taker, and a bit of a show off, so I abandon the idea of possible failure and prepare myself to open the gate.

Tensing up my arms, I make myself as solid as possible. Then, building up some decent speed, I run towards the gate and slam my side into it.

A loud, piercing screech of twisting hinges stings my ears. I feel the gate move and my body toppling over. I manage to catch myself before I ruin the moment by kissing the floor. All due respects to my great skills, but when you have muscle, you're not the lightest thing.

Regaining my balance, I step round to look at the others. I'm expecting Kelvin to be quite humiliated that I could open the gate and he couldn't. And Brooklyn? She'll probably play it low key; she doesn't like to praise people.

"You see, Kel?" I smile smugly. "All you needed was to-"

"Slide open the bolt." Brooklyn cuts me off. "There was a bolt right here."

I look sheepishly over and feel my face blushing pink. Right at the side of the gate is a metal bolt, no padlocks or anything. Just an easy slide-open bolt. Damn it.

"See, this is why you need a girl around." Brooklyn says, walking through the gate. "C'mon then, boys."

Me and Kelvin flash each other an identical look and trape after her, both feeling slightly embarrassed. I hope that wasn't on camera, Jake would be laughing his head off at my stupidity.

Brooklyn leads us into the forest. For the few days we've been in this arena, I've never been in the forest. I've mainly been hunting tributes with Kelvin around the village, as we thought tributes would be more likely to want to shelter in the old houses rather than under a vulnerable tree. But unfortunately, we've found nothing but someone's ivy wreath. Which means nothing.

Bryn and Tal are the ones who have been in the forest. They seem pretty comfortable in there, despite Tal being from District Four, where the only trees seem to be palm trees or whatever. But they both seem to like hanging around there and Bryn is said to be 'teaching Tal how to throw knives'... whereas I like to think otherwise, as I've never seen him hold a knife in his hands, never mind throw one. I'm not complaining though, as they always come back with some sort of kill to share with the camp.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" I ask, stepping stompily over a fallen chunk of tree.

"Any signs that suggest another tribute has been here." Brooklyn answers.

"Like what?" I ask, unsure.

"Like that." Kelvin jumps in, his finger pointing over to our left.

We all turn our heads. But I see nothing.

"What?" I say. "I can't see anything."

Brooklyn walks over to where Kelvin pointed. I watch as she bends down beside a tree and runs her fingers along the bark.

She rises and beckons us over.

We walk over to her. "What is it?" Kelvin asks.

Brooklyn holds up her finger. The tip of it is brushed with a pale, dirty red substance that is clearly blood. Well, unless someone has been doing a spot of painting. "There's blood on this tree."

"It could easily be an animal, not necessarily a tribute." Kelvin says sceptically.

"That's what I thought, at first." Brooklyn says, then pulls aside some over-hanging leaves from a nearby bush. "Until I found these."

By pushing aside the leaves, Brooklyn reveals a set of imprints in the muddy ground. They're not just ordinary tracks, they're footprints. Human footprints that match the sole of all our boots.

"Someone's been here." Kelvin states, bending down to examine the tracks.

"No shit, Sherlock." I say sarcastically.

Brooklyn flashes me a confused look. "Who's Sherlock?"

"Oh, he's a detective in a book my brother used to like." I explain. "I haven't read it; I hate books."

"Ok then..." Brooklyn says, returning back to Kelvin. "Well, it looks like whoever was here, wasn't gone that long ago."

Kelvin nods. "The tracks look quite fresh and the blood is still wet."

While the other two discuss hypotheses, I drift off. They're conversation bores me and I find myself rooting through our supply bag we brought along.

Inside, I find a few pieces of bread that look almost stale, a few apples, a knife and some coiled rope.

I rip a piece of the bread and stuff it in my mouth, then pull out the rope as I chew. Unravelling it from it's circular shape, it let it fall out to it's full length. Running it through my hands, it stretches the full length of my body, which is quite long, but not so much for a rope. But we have plenty of longer ones back at camp.

I begin looping the rope and secure it with one of the knots I learnt at training. I didn't listen much at that station, but I think I remember how to do the double twist knot.

Now that the rope is like a lasso, I start swishing it in my hand. It catches on a fallen branch and I lean over to unhook it. That's when an idea comes to mind.

Scuttling across the dirt trodden floor of the forest, I crawl over to a thin, but sturdy tree. Hastily, I loop the free end of the rope round the tree and secure it with a tight knot. Then, I pull out the rope so that it lies on the ground, camouflaged into the mud brown leaves and hidden almost entirely from the human eye. I almost lose sight of it; I would have, if I didn't place it there myself.

"Ray, what are you doing?" Kelvin's voice suddenly comes over. "Quit messing around and get your ass over here."

Sighing, I do as I'm instructed and slope over the others. Now for the boring lecture... I guess I'll have to finish my trap off later.

Inva Reinhardt, District 3 POV

My hand grabs a fistful of vines and pushes them aside. A narrow tunnel, like a tiny valley, forms in the hanging plants and I walk through, holding the entrance open for Victoria. I feel her hand brush against mine as she takes hold of the vines instead. I let go and continue parting a path for us.

"Ugh, they don't feel very nice, do they?" Victoria says in a disgusted tone behind me. "They're all rough and rope-like."

"Yeah, but they are pretty tough looking." I say. "They'd probably make good ropes."

The next handful of vines I move, I tug lightly down. The coarse texture fits Victoria's comparison to rope and an idea starts to form in my busy mind.

"Hey, when we get out of them, we should cut some down and use them for ropes." I suggest.

A positive 'hmm' from Victoria approves of my suggestion.

Swiping aside what seems to be the last of the vines, a gap in the mossy green wall appears. I dart for it and break free, glad to be surrounded by space once more.

"Phew!" Victoria bursts out after me. "Wow, it's good to breath again; I felt suffocated in there."

"It's better than going through that other route." I remind her. "Remember; it was thick with thorny bushes and didn't look rather inviting."

"Neither did the vines." She remarks.

"Well," I walk over to the nearest vine and pull out the penknife that was tucked inside my left boot. "going this way has lead us to new supplies. We could do with anything we can get hold of."

I start sawing into the vine, the sharp blade of the penknife slicing into the rope like plant. At first it's hard to get through, but after the sixth cut, it begins to glide through with little effort.

Victoria comes up beside me. "I would help, but we only have one knife and I doubt my finger is sharp enough."

"Oh, it's fine." I say whilst sawing. I'm almost there with the vine. "You can do the next one."

The next cut breaks through the vine. I feel it snap as it separates from the rest of the plant and drops into my waiting hand. Passing the knife to Victoria, I step away from the abundance of vines and begin to test out the strength of our new supply.

Gripping it tightly from both ends, I pull sharply on the vine. It's strong and restricts itself from snapping. Perfect.

"How strong is it?" Victoria asks from her sawing station.

"Very." I reply, winding the vine around my hand like a small grass snake.

"Good, I'm glad to know that this time wasn't wasted." Victoria says, tossing me a freshly cut vine. "Your turn."

Rolling my eyes, I walk over and take the penknife. I'm quite proud of the little weapon; it has proven to be very useful in this arena, despite its size. And hey, who needs a sword when you can have a compact penknife that does everything and more?

Putting the blade next to a particularly thick looking vine, I begin sawing once more.

About two hours later, or so I'd have guessed, we're sitting on a fallen tree trunk, chewing some bland diced meat and rubbing our aching wrists. My palms are red raw and the first layer of skin that coats my fingers has almost all been scraped off. But I suppose it was worth it, as a sea of new ropes lie at our feet, all together in a knotted mess. We'll sort it out later.

"My hands are burning." Victoria moans, holding out her equally ripped hands, palms facing upwards. "Now would be the perfect time for some sponsors to send us a pot of that hand lotion that smells of roses."

She looks up to the sky, as if expecting a silver parachute to come flying down from the false sky. But, of course, nothing comes.

"That's because people don't like us..." I mumble quietly to myself.

"What?" Victoria snaps her head towards me. "Did you say something?"

I hold back for a moment. I'm not sure whether or not to tell her, slightly worried for her reaction. I know she's quite a sensitive person, well at least that's what I've deduced over the past few days. Victoria always seems that little on edge, where anything an just tip her over. I've seen her angry a few times, mainly through impatience or frustration, but she tends to slink away before she does something she will later learn to regret. I quite like that about her; the fact that she prefers to deal with her emotions by herself. In that way, she's like myself.

"Oh, I was just thinking about whether sponsors like us or not." I decide finally to reply. I haven't told her the whole truth, but I haven't lied either.

Victoria shrugs. "They might do, I mean we're fairly decent people. We're not really bitchy or weak - those type of girls annoy me so much."

"Same here." I agree. "But do you think _sponsors _like people like that?"

"Maybe, but if I were them, I wouldn't waste money on buying a gift for someone who has no chance of getting very far."

"Who would you send gifts to then?"

She thinks for a moment. "Erm, probably some kick-ass girl from and outside district - or a boy in the same position. Not the Careers, they get too much attention anyway without being lavished with great gifts."

"I'd probably go for the dark horse, the sneaky one that no-one really thinks about, but who ends up getting really far."

"Sponsors tend to like the sweeter, cute tribute or the opposite, vicious killing machine. There's no way for the in-between ones like us." Victoria says. "Also, they seem to be suckers for a bit of romance, a tragic love story."

I nod. "Yes, in other games I've occasionally watched, the unfortunate lovers always seem to receive the most gifts. Like last year, do you remember the girl from eight who got reaped with her boyfriend? They got tonnes of gifts."

"Maybe we should track down two boys and pretend to fall desperately in love with them." Victoria suggests jokingly.

"Oh yes, then you and Raymond can get it on." I laugh teasingly.

At the mention of her district partner, Victoria's face changes. I see her fists close tightly together and her jaw tense.

"Ugh, no way, never." She says, disgusted. "I'd rather starve that be close to that arrogant arse hole."

"I'm guessing that's a no, then?"

"One hundred billion percent." She stands up from the trunk-bench. "Right, we'd best get moving. Then we can work out what to do with all these ropes."

I nod and stand up as well. Crouching to ground level, I begin collecting the vines and trying my best to untangle them. A cold chill passes down my back as I'm bent.

"Is it just me, or has it suddenly gotten a lot colder?" I ask Victoria.

"No, I feel it too, it's definitely not just you." She looks up. "Look, the sky is thick with clouds."

I follow her gaze and find that she's right. The once sky blue sheet has turned to a suffocating blanket of dark grey.

"Do you think it's going to rain?" I ask.

Victoria nods her head surely. "It already is; the rain is moving quickly in our direction."

I peer into the distance and see again that she's right. Showers of heavy rain are pouring over the forest and heading straight for us.

Another cold chill, except this time it's more like a gush of wind, hits me. There is without a doubt a storm coming our way.

"C'mon, let's go." I say, swiping up the rest of the ropes, still tangled, and stuffing them into a bag.

We both get to our feet, check behind us at the chasing storm, and take off.

Victoria leads, running along the leafy ground and dodging the trees in her path. I sprint confidently behind her, light on my feet and feeling rather energetic after my rest. And it also helps with the fact that there's a storm right on our heels that I'd rather avoid getting swept into.

Victoria stumbles in front, her boot caught in a low shrub. She almost falls, but manages to regain balance before doing so.

Slowing, I stop next to her. She huffs, yanking her boot sharply, frustration getting the better of her.

"It won't budge!" She yells angrily.

"Calm down, Vic." I tell her gently. "Let me try."

Victoria stops pulling on her boot and starts taking deep breaths. I bend down and examine the situation.

The toe of her boot has gotten jammed between two up-ground roots, but it's easily sorted. Grabbing the boot with both hands, I wiggle it expertly and release it from the twining position.

"Thanks." Victoria says as I stand up. "I was panicking, so I got myself all worked up."

"No problem." I reply, glancing back. "But we'd best get moving quickly if we're going to get to the village before the storm hits."

Without so much as an agreeing word, Victoria darts off again, keen to escape the claws of the storm. A few seconds behind, I run after her. The gap between us soon shrinks as I my legs work speedily. I've always been quite a fast runner, especially good at weaving in and out of crowds. District Three can get really busy on market days or at the seasonal invention competitions, so I've learnt how to dodge people and machines well.

The sight of the fence, peeping between branches and trees gives me a flash of hope. I know we're almost back at the village. And when we're there, we can find shelter while the storm washes over. We should be plenty safe then.

"Victoria," I say through my breaths. "we're almost there. I think we can make it."

Victoria, who is now running beside me, turns her head. "Yes, I can see the-"

Her words are cut off as they morph into a scream, not of anguish as I've heard before, but a real, fearful scream. And I see her crumble to the ground, hitting it with a loud crash that makes my legs go to jelly.

I instantly stop running, my boots skidding across the ground as I come to a shuddering halt. I drop to my knees beside Victoria. I've heard no canon, so I can be sure that she's still alive.

"Victoria?" I shake her shoulder cautiously.

She groans beneath my touch and rolls onto her side. As she does, she reveals a shiny blade, coated with blood stains, that impales through her torso.

My eyes grow wide and I start shaking with shock. Her face is pale and twisted in agony, but she manages to squeak, "Free my leg...please..."

Nodding my head quickly, I scuttle on my hands and knees to her leg. Scraping away the leaves, I can see a loop of rope wrapped around her calf. It's proper rope, not like the vines we have. And I can see that it's a deliberate trap from the expert knot tied in the loop, holding it together as tightly as it is wrapped around her leg.

Without further hesitation, I pull out the penknife from my boot and begin sawing fast at the rope. It's much tougher than the vines and doesn't want to come loose.

"Can..you do...it?" Victoria asks, her voice growing ever weaker.

"It's tough, but I'll try." I say, determined.

Sweat starts to pour down my face as I put all my strength into cutting the rope. The added pressure isn't helpful either, as I can feel the temperature dropping and the wind picking up.

"The storm..." Victoria gasps. "You need...to..go..."

I shake my head firmly. "No, no way. I'm getting you out of here first."

"But..."

"No buts."

My wrist throbs and my breathing turns into heavy pants. I'm moving my hand so quickly up and down, desperate to free her leg. The friction is horrible and the sound of the blade on the strings of the rope is even worse. It's scratchy, like a menacing laugh. It's laughing at me, at my attempt to save my friend. But it never releases its grip.

"Inva.." Victoria's hand suddenly grabs my arm. "Please...just go..."

I rarely get emotional, but my eyes start welling up. I don't want to cry, I need to be strong, but there is no stopping them from breaking down my face.

"I can't leave you." I sob. "We're allies, we help each other."

"And I'm helping you." She coughs. "Please, just save yourself. I'm...dead anyway."

At that point, I know I can't save her. She's right. Even if the rope is cut, she's suffered a wound beyond help and with the amount of blood she's losing, she won't last long. Not to mention the storm that has almost reached us.

Feeling so much hate for myself, even though it's the right thing to do, I stop sawing and step away from Victoria. She manages a weak smile to tell me that I'm doing the right thing, before looking at the storm that tumbles ever closer.

She then speaks, through a clogged throat. "Thank you..."

"Victoria..." I whisper.

She shakes her head. "Go now and survive another day...don't worry about me...I'll be fine..."

"But I can't..."

"Go...I'll be ok, Alex is waiting for me..."

Alex? I'm confused for a moment, then remember. Alex was her best friend that died in the Games when he was twelve. She told me about him on the first night in the arena. And how it cut her up when he was slaughtered. That had never happened to me, but now, I can finally understand how it feels to have a friend snatched away from you.

Giving her one last smile to remember me by, I turn away and do something I know I'll always regret, even if it's what she wanted.

I turn, and run away.

I only glance back once, just once. But all I see is the storm washing over her body. And then I see nothing.

The canon fires.

* * *

**A/N- OMGale... like ohmigosh. Someone died... Dun dun dunn... **

**Aw, poor Victoria. She was a nice girl, despite her occasional angerful (word?) moments. You've gotta feel for her right? I mean, her best friend died in the Games when he was twelve and now she has followed in his path... So, what were your thoughts on both Victoria and her death? Did you expect her to get any further? And how do you think Inva will cope after the sudden departure and will she be able to cope? **

**Right, so I know it isn't quite Christmas yet, but if some strange reason I haven't updated by that frabjous day, then MERRY CHRISTMAS! Ok, I should update before then, but just in case... which reminds me! I have been thinking of new year resolutions (yes, already) and I am going to have one to be: To Update Fanfiction Quicker! Yes, I know I have mentioned this before, but I want to make it official in the new year to come. So yay. Yule log.**

**Thank you for your continued support... even though reviews are shrinking... that saddens me greatly. Since it's the season to be jolly (and it was my birthday) I would love it if we could get those review numbers up again? I like hearing your thoughts and yes, deck the halls (with many reviews, tra la la la). My next target is 111!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

**Oh, and one last thing... I've recently posted up a new fic called Unscripted Fate. It's a Gale fic, btw, and I would love it if some of you would read and review it for me? I'm unsure on whether to continue it...**


	25. Outsiders: Tea, Coffee and Cunning Plans

**A/N- Hello again! Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la la la la! See, I updated before Christmas, yay! This way you won't have to wait too long! Woop woop.**

**Ok, enough. Without further ado, here is the next Outside chapter! (I know you love 'em)**

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Ren, (Victoria's sister) POV

A small smash jolts me awake. I sit up, startled and look alertly around the room. No-one.

Sitting up, I notice that I'm on the sofa, the soft and worn material gentle against the bare skin of my arms. I'm not really sure why I'm on the sofa, I must have fallen asleep without realising, which is quite strange for me.

Lately, I've been suffering from insomnia. Yet without the need to rush out of bed every other night to calm Victoria from her latest nightmare, I have still found it difficult to sleep. Maybe it's my body clock; set and waiting for the alarm to go off. Waiting for that scream, shout, yell. Waiting for the sound of weeping from behind the wall. Waiting for that time in the middle of the night where I have to leap out of bed, run next door and comfort my sister while she sobs wet tears into my pyjama top.

But those nights have long stopped. I am no longer needed to chase the monstrous memories away, that may be someone else's job now. With Victoria gone, I should be gaining sleep. But somehow I can't. So waking up on the sofa is a good omen I guess.

Swinging my legs out from underneath me, I plant my feet on the floor and attempt to stand. But as I'm putting pressure on the balls of my feet, a sharp stabbing pain shoots through my left foot.

"Ouch!" I jump back, falling onto the sofa.

Pulling up my foot, I look underneath. The skin as been lightly wounded, just a small red river running through the pale lands. It's not much blood, but it does sting quite a bit.

I peer down to the floor where I stood. Cracked shards of blue painted pottery spread across the wooden planks, sharp edges like razors and corners so pointed you could shoot a bulls eye and score a ten.

"Damn it." I curse under my breath as I recognise the shattered pieces of baby blue. It's, I mean it _was_, my mug that I was drinking tea from before I fell asleep. I spot the handle lying whole a few inches from the main cluster and stretch down to pick it up.

It's practically weightless in my fingers and as I turn it round, tiny little dust particles sprinkle down onto my leg. I wipe them off.

Remembering my injury from the sudden stinging sensation in the ball of my foot, I slide off the sofa, cautious not to step on the broken mug again. Tiptoeing carefully around it, I make my way to the kitchen.

Turning the tap on, I root around in a cupboard until I find the roll of bandages. The roll itself is over half used and the end is all frayed and flaky. We always keep bandages in the house, and we used to go through them quite quickly. I was not normally the one to injury myself, it was usually Victoria after one of her mood swings. She'd often come downstairs with a sliced finger or scraped knuckle and Mom would have to bind them. Mom didn't mind so much, she liked being a nurse to her kids especially since they were getting older, but she did worry about Victoria and whether she would ever hurt herself beyond a bandages help. She never did, thankfully.

And here I am, almost following in my sister's footprints, except this time being no deliberate fault of my own. I have the bandage cut and ready, so all I need to do is rinse the wound and then dress it up.

Although, cleaning one's foot under a kitchen sink is quite a difficult task. I try cocking my leg up high, but my trousers are quite restricting and won't allow me to reach that far. So I end up sitting on the counter, with my foot dangling lazily in the sink and cold water running through the gash in my skin.

Once cleaned, I shuffle off and wrap my foot in a section of white material. Because I've seen Mom doing it so many times, I successfully dress my foot and am ready to hobble back into the lounge, this time with a broom.

As I'm sweeping up the pottery, I notice that the TV is on in the corner of the room. I didn't realise it was on until now. Was I watching it before I fell asleep? I fail to remember.

Shrugging, I look away and continue brushing away the mess. After a few moments, the voices on the TV seem to rise and I find myself listening in. It's the voices of Morgana Volptura and Vaughn Redkill. This year's hostess and co-host of the annual Hunger Games.

"So we've just received the news of the latest death." Morgana is saying. "And what a tragic one it was indeed."

"Yes," Agrees Vaughn. "I almost had tears in my eyes. Especially when she told her ally to leave and save herself."

Her ally? I stop sweeping for a moment and do some quick thinking in my head. I think about the remaining girls in the games and who has female allies. Ok, so it won't be one of the Career girls, they hate each other and would never tell the other to run. Right, there's the group of girls, it could be one of them. But it couldn't be that girl from Four, her ally is a boy, and it also couldn't be the one from Seven as she has no ally at all. Which leaves the girls alliance and Victoria's alliance.

_Please don't be Victoria or her ally. Please._

"So for those of you who have missed it, we're going to show you the clip of the most recent death." Morgana says to the camera. "This happened about ten minutes ago."

I look to the TV, praying and hoping and wishing on anything that it won't be Victoria's face on the wall.

The screen changes from the painted faces of the hosts to the arena. It's the forest and the camera is focused on a scene between two girls. I can't tell who it is until one of them speaks.

"Free my leg...please." The clear, distinct voice of my sister fills the room.

_No._

Dropping the broom and letting it hit the ground with a thwack, I turn to stare at the TV, my hands firmly by my side in a state of utter shock.

_It can't be._

I watch in horror as the scene envelopes into a crisis, Victoria lying helplessly on the forest floor, her leg encased in a tight rope and a huge red stain on her shirt where a blade slaughtered her. Her ally, Inva, tries desperately to free her, but she doesn't manage it. My eyes grow ever wider, filling with tears as Inva eventually gives up and leaves Victoria to face the wrath of the raging storm, limp and dying.

The screen changes from the bleak forest scene to the colourful panel where the two hosts sit behind. One moment she was there. And the next, she was gone.

"Yes, well that was Victoria Buchegger from District Five." Morgana says. "And that was the ninth death of the Games so far, which leaves fifteen tributes left, including the partner of the recently deceased, Inva Reinhardt from District Three."

_Recently deceased. Ninth death. Victoria Buchegger. District Five. Recently deceased. _

_Recently deceased._

I scream and fall back on to the sofa. It cushions my fall.

The TV is still on, but the screen is all just a blur, a mash up of all the bright colours. The once clear voices have turned to distant murmurs, occasional words I pick out.

Dearly missed. One sister. One brother. Friend. Alex.

I throw my head in my hands and the front door clicks from a distance away.

The sound of heavy footprints and a bag being tossed to the floor can be heard over my sobs and the groaning voices of the TV.

I hear someone walk into the room.

"Ren?" The voice of my brother, Rye, enters my ears.

When I don't reply, he comes over and sits beside me. His hands cup under my chin and lift up my head.

A curtain of tears blur the sight of him, but after blinking a few times, the vision becomes clearer.

"What's wrong, Ren?" Rye asks.

Sniffing, I look down at my palms. "It's Vic...Victoria...She's d...de...dead."

His face drops. "She's dead?"

I nod slowly. "It happened about f...fi...fifteen minutes ago. They were t..t...talking about it on the TV."

"Did you see it happen?" He asks bravely.

I shake my head. "But I s...saw the clip..."

"What happened?"

I gulp. "It was horrible... Her leg was caught and she fell and the sword and the storm and...and..."

"It's ok." Rye wraps his arm around my shoulders. "You don't have to tell my anymore."

I stay for a while, just weeping into his chest and letting my tears soak up in his warm shirt. He smells of the outdoors, the scent of fresh and cool air seeped into his clothes. And I can feel his heart beating beneath his chest, something Victoria's will never do again.

I break away.

"Do you think Mom and Dad know?" Rye asks me as I wipe my eyes with my sleeves.

Shrugging, I reply, "Maybe, but they're both working. It depends on whether there's a TV on near or if someone has told them."

"Someone will probably have told them if they didn't already know." Rye says. "If they know then I bet they'll be home any time soon."

I stand up from the sofa. "I'm just going to go upstairs for a minute. Make some more tea for when Mom and Dad come back."

Rye nods and walks to the kitchen, grabbing the teapot and placing some weathered tea leaves in the bottom. I turn my head away and move over to the stairs.

Gripping the banister tightly, careful in case my knees buckle beneath me, I climb up stair by stair. With each step I take, my foot feels heavier, stomping harder on the wood as I ascend the staircase.

When I reach the top, I turn right. Two doors face me, both identical except for the slight wonkiness of the hinges on Victoria's. She slammed her door many a time.

Instead of opening the door closest to me, I take the handle of the other and push it down, releasing the door with a creak from its rusting and uneven hinges. I walk slowly into the room.

The curtains that are closed are the first thing I notice as I enter, as the room is enveloped in a dim light. I step further in and let the door to gently shut behind me, setting the room into a cold silence.

My feet stand on the wooden planks of the floor, the weight of my body tweaking at the floorboards and causing the occasional low moan. I look around the room. Everything seems the same as it was left that morning of the reaping. The bed is still unmade and the two pieces of sleepwear lie lifeless on the floor.

Bending, I pick them up and walk over to the bed. Instinctively, I reach for the flat cushion and begin plumping it. Placing it down again, I drag the sheets up to its edge and tuck them under the springed mattress. I run my hands over the sheets, smoothing them down and then gentle lie the neatly folded pyjamas on top of the cushion. As I always do.

It feels like I'm laying her to rest. But in a way, I am. She's gone now, for good. That slim chance that I may see her again has been wiped out, exiled, banished. And I can't go on frozen in one state of mind; my body would soon be empty of tears and my heart would slowly stop beating. I could join my sister, but I know that now is not the time. She'll wait for me and when the time is right, I shall see her again.

That's what I said to her about Alex. After he died, Victoria almost died herself. Not literally. She would cry and cry until I thought she would pass out. Bags beneath her eyes grew ever larger and the lines in her face deepened. She wouldn't sleep, she wouldn't eat and she barely even breathed. She was twelve and I was nine.

Then she was fifteen and _I _was twelve. And Victoria was still the same, but by then, she had begun to eat once more.

And finally, she was seventeen and I was fourteen. _Am _fourteen. But Victoria isn't here anymore. Just like Alex she was lost to the Games. And I'm lost without her.

People used to say that Victoria depended on me, they were right, but they always seemed to forget one tiny detail:

I depended on her.

"Rest in peace, sister." I whisper, holding the small box carefully in my hands.

With gentle fingers, I open the lid and remove the two artefacts from inside. They're delicate in my fingertips and I'm afraid I might break them. They could be so easily snapped or cut. But the owners could not. For Victoria and Alex have been reunited now.

With or without their bracelets that lie on the bed before me.

I know I don't need to worry about her anymore. She's safe now. She has Alex once more. Best friends together again.

It's just me that is left without a partner.

Head Gamemaker, Opus Trimarti POV

I place the cutlery on the syrup stained plate and declare myself finished. An Avox with shoulder length crimson hair comes rushing to my table and clears the table before me. I nod and relax back in my cushioned chair, my shoulder blades sinking into the padded behind. Being Head Gamemaker has its perks.

The Avox girl returns, holding a silver tray of refreshments in her pale hands. She angles the tray towards me, offering me choice of the array of beverages.

"I shall have some coffee, thank you." I place my order. The Avox girl nods, lifts up one of the large jugs filled with a dark steaming liquid and pours some into my mug. Steam billows out the top of the mug and the strong smell of black coffee enters my nostrils.

The Avox girl then splashes tiny amounts of different liquids into the coffee and I watch intensely as the beverage changes colour, until finally settling for a dark brown.

"Many thanks." I nod to the girl. "You are dismissed."

I watch as the girl trots off, delicately balancing the tray in her hands as she leaves the room. She uses her foot to grab the bottom of the door and pulls it shut behind her, sending me into my own silent company.

Taking the mug of coffee, I sip it comfortably and enjoy the view of the outside city from my wall sized window. The streets are busy this late morning, brightly coloured silhouettes of people flowing through the paths like rivers of ribbons. Women hurry along pushing elaborately decorated prams with chubby little babies inside and multitasking while chatting to friends they pass. Men in bold suits stroll along, many entering betting houses to predict the next death, or put in an early guess for Victor. It's quite soothing to watch their busy day, whilst I'm relaxing and pretty much doing nothing.

The other Gamemakers will be down at the control room, watching over the arena. I don't need to be down there for another hour, which means that nothing in particular is going on in the arena at the moment. The tributes are probably recovering from the storm I created yesterday afternoon, so there is no need to throw anything else at them yet.

Drinking my overly strong, but delicious coffee, I find my mind wandering off. I'm thinking about previous Games and the Head Gamemakers that came before my time. This is my first year at being Head, we had a huge vote at the end of last year's Games to decide on who was going to be Head for the 500th Games, a pretty big year. The biggest Games any of us now would ever see in their lifetime.

It was a pretty great honour to be selected this year, but I didn't expect otherwise. The citizens of the Capitol were bound to vote me in anyway and I was already quite friendly with the President. Normally, there isn't a public vote for Head Gamemaker, but as it is a huge quell this year and the new President is quite spontaneous, it was decided that there should be a democracy to decide. In my favour, of course.

The sound of my doorbell ringing jolts me in my seat and I almost spill my coffee.

"Come in." I say loudly, so that the person behind the door can hear, but not shouty so that I still sound professional.

The door swings open and the Avox girl walks in, her hand bearing a piece of folded paper. She hands it to me and leaves quickly, allowing me to read it in private. She's well trained.

Opening the crisp ivory paper, I read the jet black inked writing. It's a message.

_Opus Trimarti,_

_There is a matter of business that I wish to discuss with yourself. If you could come down to my office as soon as you receive this message then we can commence._

_President Zieh._

Folding up the paper, I slide it into my trouser pocket and stand. I quickly gulp down the remaining coffee and leave the mug on the table. An Avox will clear that up for me soon.

Strolling confidently down the corridors towards the President's office, I wonder what she wants to talk to me about. Maybe she wants to compliment my job so far, maybe offer me some kind of reward or something. There is plenty of things I would quite like to receive from her. Perhaps she has plans for my future position? She could be telling me that I'm going to be Head Gamemaker again next year due to my impressive performance so far. Or maybe she just has some suggestions for the running of the quell?

I walk past a group of mentors and raise my hand in a term of greeting. Lydia Temple, the mentor for District Three, waves politely back with a rare smile on her thin lips. She only ever smiles when I take notice of her, so all the other hours of the day she looks like she's sucking lemons. For a previous Victor, she's had a little too much cosmetic surgery.

The escort for District Three is also with her, Clarissa Magton. She's her usual self and flashes me a brief smile, accepting that I'm her superior.

As well as those two, other mentors from Districts Six, Seven and Nine are present. It seems as if they've just come out of a meeting or something, or maybe on their way to chat with some sponsors. And as usual, Damien Thicket is as drunk as ever, slopping around all over the place I have to step to the side to avoid being hit by his flying fists.

I straighten up my suit and continue on.

The door of the President's office looms ahead and I even feel a slight flutter in the pit of my full stomach. I wonder what she _really _wants. Maybe I've been kidding myself and she actually wants to complain or even...sack me. No. That won't happen, my Gamemaking has been great so far. There is nothing to complain about.

The door slides open at my nearing presence and I step inside. The room is dim, with only a few lights hanging on the aubergine painted walls. President Zieh seems to like the darkness, it's like her signature feature. As well as her jet black and poker straight hair.

A strip of purple carpet leads the way through the middle of the room, ending just before her large armchair. The back of the chair is facing me and it starts to spin around as I walk towards it.

Stopping a few metres in front of the chair, I wait as the monstrous chair turns to face me. Slowly, the figure of President Zieh is revealed. The darkness of the room casts shadows on her face; her eyes and lips visible in the soft glow of the limited lights.

Zieh has only been President for about seven months. She took over the role from her father who died last year and she certainly followed in his footsteps. She likes attention, just like he did, and so far has most definitely gained a lot of that. With her quirky ways, she will be one to be remembered.

"Opus, I trust you received the message I sent." The President speaks with clarity, her deep purple lips moving swiftly and with elegance.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't." I reply correctly.

The corner of her lip twitches, but she does not quite manage a smile. She tends not to smile, but I always know the right things to say.

"You said there were matters to discuss, did you not?" I ask.

She nods. "Indeed there are, Opus. But firstly, let me congratulate you on your recent achievement."

I'm sure she's talking about the storm, but it would be embarrassing if it weren't, so I have to make sure. "The storm, your honour?"

"Of course, it was a huge success, am I correct?" President Zieh says.

"Well yes, it definitely seemed to rock the boat, if you know what I mean."

"I do know what you mean, it certainly did. There was great havoc caused for the tributes, as there should be in a Hunger Games, especially one as great as this year."

"And there was also a death." I point out.

"Oh yes, the girl from Five with the red hair." Zieh recalls. "She has left her ally, the girl from Three. Inva, her name is?"

"Yes." I confirm. "The numbers are steadily narrowing down. It has been predicted that the Games will last between a week and ten days more."

"Hmm..."

The President doesn't speak to reply. It seems as if she has something on her mind, her face is paused in a matter of deep thought. And the way her long, black nails tap on the arms of the chair suggest that she is concocting some kind of plan of mass destruction.

"You have something on your mind, do you not?" I ask her.

President Zieh looks to me with her obsidian eyes that shimmer behind her thick lashes. "You are quite observant, Opus."

"It has been said before." I answer. "So, what is on your mind?"

Zieh frowns slightly, her thin and pointed eyebrows dipped. "I have been thinking, Opus, about the Games..."

"What about them?" I ask. "Is there something not to your liking?"

She shakes her head. "No, no. Everything has been quite pleasant so far, well for me anyway. No, I have been thinking; since this is an extremely important and huge year for the Hunger Games' history, we need to make sure it is remembered."

"And how were you thinking of achieving that, my President?"

"We need something big. Huge. Colossal. Something that will stir things up in the arena."

"How so? Like something that will wipe out many tributes?"

"Yes. But not just something like the storm or the crows. No, we need something that will challenge even the toughest competitors instead of just wiping out the weak." Zieh says, her voice starting to sound ever so slightly excited. "We need something that not only opposes a threat to everyone, but something that will work with the arena."

"Have you any ideas?"

"I do."

"Care to elaborate?"

President Zieh looks at me, a devilish expression on her dramatic face. Her dark eyes flash with cunning mischief and for a second, she actually looks like her real age of only nineteen, rather than the twenty nine years she pretends to be. But then it's gone. In a flash. And the older, more mature woman appears once more.

"Let me ask you a question, Opus. Then you may guess the answer." Zieh says.

I nod.

"The arena is composed of an old, abandoned village surrounded by a dense forest, is it not?"

I nod again.

"The buildings are made of weathered and ruined stone and wood. The large fence around it is also made of a weak wood. And the forest is all trees and shrubs. Yes?"

I nod slowly, wondering where this is going.

"So tell me, dear Opus. What element would potentially destroy all of this?"

I think for a moment, yet I don't really need to. The answer is there and simple. What else could affect all of that as quickly and harshly as that one thing? Nothing is as savage and dangerous to that environment than the answer. And I couldn't think of anything better.

"Fire." I reply simply. "The element is fire."

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**A/N- Oosh. Well that was left on a bit of a cliffhanger (sort of). What will happen when we get back to the arena? Will there be a fire and who will it affect? Everyone, I guess. So yes, get prepared for that at some point in the future, it shall be interesting.**

**Ok, so next chapter will be up at some point after Christmas holidays, can't make a prediction as I shall be celebrating and stuffing my face with ALL the food. Yes, because I'm a greedy pig at Christmas... so afterwards it will down to the gym! Hmm, nah I don't think so. I don't do gyms. I'll just rave around the house and lose the weight like that instead.**

**Right, so have a great Christmas everyone and I hope you're not too hung up about what is going to happen next! Ok, that was a joke. This story will probably not pass your mind at all... oh well, it probably won't cross mine often. Have fun everyone and if you don't celebrate Christmas, then I hope you have a joyuss time living your normal life. **

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

**Oh, and please review. It is the season of good will, right? ;)**


	26. To Be Free, Or Not To Be Free

**A/N- Why hello there! I believe we haven't spoken since last year? Oh, really? It's a new year? Already? Wow, how time flies...**

**Anyways, happy new year everyone! Sorry that this is a little later, but I explained all that in the last chapter. Well, I shall let you settle back into the story then, shall I?**

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Bryn Rosella, District 2 POV

"Just stay still for a moment." Tal says to me. "I can't do this if you're shifting around like that."

"I'm fine, really." I jerk my head away from his grasping hands. "It's only a small cut."

"Bryn, it's not just a _small cut_. You were hit by a tent pole." Tal insists, holding up a reflective piece of glass in front of my face. "Look, it's a deep gash that needs cleaning."

Reluctantly, I stare at my reflection in the shard of glass. I look a mess. My short, mud brown hair is ruffled; chunks of the locks sticking out in all directions. My eyes are bloodshot and have lost their sharp emerald glare. And a short, yet deep wound slices across my forehead; dried blood turning brown that streaks my skin. It's as if I've been dragged through a thorned bush in the dark.

"It's nothing, I'll live." I shrug off my injuries.

"But you might not live very long if it gets infected." Tal remarks knowingly. "Now, if you're planning on getting far in these Games, then shut up and stay still; this needs to be cleaned."

Grunting as I do so, I obediently sit still and quit talking. Tal smiles with both relief and victory and dips a piece of grey material into a flask of water. He pulls it out, dripping wet, rings most of the liquid out and raises it to my face. I start moving my head back, but a harsh sounding _no _keeps me still.

"This may sting a little." Tal warns me.

"I'm not a child, Tal." I say back rudely. He looks a little hurt, so I quickly apologise. "Sorry Tal, I just hate being patronized."

"I wasn't patronizing you, it was simply a word of warning." He recovers.

I raise a sceptical eyebrow, but allow it to pass.

Tal takes the damp cloth to my forehead and lightly touches it. My damaged skin stings sharply, but all I do is wince as he gently wipes along with caring hands.

All the while, I watch his carefully drawn face. His eyebrows are burrowed in a slight frown, his teeth biting his lower lip and his eyes attentive to my face. It's quite mesmerising to watch the concentration on his face; like when I'm focusing on a target with my knives. He looks much more serious than his usual grinning self with his mischievously lit up eyes that always seem to catch mine.

Tal's hand, still holding the cloth, drops from my face.

"All clean." He says softly, bringing his other hand up to my cheek and running an affectionate finger down my untouched skin.

I'm not the one usually bothered about the opposite sex other than to pick a fight with, but as Tal's fingertip traces the line of my jaw, I find a small shiver slip down my spine and a flutter of butterflies in my stomach. And when he plants a soft kiss on my lips, I feel a surge of lust within me.

"Oh, Tal..." I murmur against his mouth as I kiss back.

"Erm..." Comes his reply and I suddenly pull back, surprised. Just as I'm about to demand what he meant my _'erm',_ I realise that it wasn't him that spoke, but Ren instead.

Ren stands in the opening of the Cornucopia, holding a small silver box and staring at us without blinking.

Feeling my cheeks flush pink, a sensation I'm not used to, I start shuffling awkwardly away from the closeness of Tal.

"Right...have I come at a bad time?" Ren asks, then starts smirking. "I wasn't..._interrupting _anything, was I?"

I can't form words to pull together an excuse, but luckily Tal swoops in.

"Ah, it seems you have caught us red-handed, Ren." He says, holding his hands out guiltily. "Well, it was only a matter of time that we could keep it hidden..."

I dart him an annoyed look. He mouths 'what?' innocently back. I narrow my eyes.

"So this has been going on for a while, then?" Ren asks, walking over. "Since when? Did you have your first _'encounter' _in the Capitol?"

"No!" We both answer simultaneously.

Ren laughs. "Both in denial, I see. So when did it start then?"

"A while back," Tal answers truthfully. "when you guys went out hunting and that girl swiped some of our stuff."

Ren raises his eyebrows in surprise. "So you were too busy snogging each others' faces off that the girl slipped in and stole our stuff?"

At the words _'snogging each others' faces off'_ both of us turn a shade darker. A shade darker red, that is.

"Um...actually..." Tal stutters from embarrassment. "...We first...um, kissed...after the girl got away..."

Ren nods. "Ok, so you were just too lazy to catch the thief then?"

"No." I jump in, defensive. "We just arrived in camp as she was making a getaway; we started to give chase, but we were too far away."

"No worries anyway, she died the other day." Tal points out. "We saw her face in the sky and toasted our flasks in content."

Ren, who is now standing beside us, suddenly remembers the box in his hand.

"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot." He says, opening up the silver box. "This just came a few minutes ago."

He passes the box over to me and I take in it surprise. "Is this for me?"

"Well, unless your name isn't Bryn and you've been lying to us all along."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I haven't got a secret identity."

I look inside the opened box. A small slip of ivory paper sits on top and I lift that out and read it first.

"_Bryn, make sure Tal applies it generously_." I read it aloud.

"Is it for your wound?" Ren asks.

"Why do I have to apply it?" Tal asks also.

Retrieving the gift inside, I hold out a circular pot. Popping off the lid, I smell the pale blue cream inside. It smells of the Capitol's clinical room.

"I can only presume it's for my wound, it doesn't look edible." I answer Ren's question first, then turn to Tal. "Maybe the sponsors like us..."

"...together?" Tal finishes my sentence.

"Aw look, you're finishing each others' sentences." Ren smirks.

Tal and I just laugh.

"C'mon then, apply it generously, doctor." I grin at Tal. He grins back and takes the pot.

"I shall take this as an opportunity to leave you two alone..." Ren backs out. "Come out and help me organise the destroyed camp when you're finished."

And saying no more, he leaves.

"Now, do I need to ask you to stay still?" Tal asks me, his finger dipped in cream.

"You'll have to make me." I say back, hinting.

Tal understands straight away and the grin on his face appears ever larger. He places the pot that balanced on his knee onto the floor and comes in closer to me.

"Your hair wants brushing, by the way." He whispers.

"There's time for that later." I reply, hushed, and this time it's me that makes the first move.

Phosphorus Vox, District 7 POV

"Wakey wakey, rise and shine. It's a new day porcupine!" My slumber is halted by a rather tiredly sung rhyme.

Reluctantly, as I would have loved to drift back to sleep again, I lift my heavy eyelids. The hazy image of Layla appears before my eyes, her grinning face staring down at my frowning one.

"Is it morning already?" I ask drearily. "It only feels like an hour ago that I went to sleep."

Layla bites her lower lip, a sign that she's either lying or worried about something. "Well, actually... it kinda is the early evening. More precisely, you've only been asleep for about two hours."

I jolt up, whacking the back of my skull on the cave wall in the process. "Ouch!"

Layla stifles a giggle. "We both need to stop doing that."

"Yeah, it's not very enjoyable." I say, rubbing my head tenderly. "I think half my brain cells just died."

"Then maybe you won't be thinking clearly enough to have a go at me for waking you up?" Layla asks hopefully.

At the reminder of my disappointingly short and disturbed sleep, my eyes narrow. "Don't worry, I think I can manage to throttle you at the least."

Layla shuffles back, not sure whether to take my threat seriously or not. She waits, her body tense, while I sit up properly and then relaxes when I show no intention of strangling her thin neck.

"So, why did you wake me up?" I go for the talking option of communication. "Were you bored? Or is something wrong?"

"You'd be right in choosing either." She replies. "The problem leads to my eventual boredom."

I frown. "What's the problem? Broken a nail?"

She scowls, but continues to answer. "Have you not noticed how dim it is in here?"

I chew my lip and look around the cave. It is quite dim actually, only small slits of light cutting through the darkness and lighting up her face. I didn't notice it much a I only just woke up; plus, I thought it was later on anyway.

"And? Isn't it usually dark in caves?" I say as if it's an obvious fact.

"Yeah, in the night." Layla says. "But not in the early evening."

"So that's the problem then; you're not satisfied in the Gamemakers' choice of lighting this particular evening?"

She rolls her eyes. "Of course there is more to it."

Layla crawls, due to the low height of the cave, over to the entrance. I have to turn my neck to see past a shelf of rock and stare at the entrance. Except, I gasp when I see that there isn't one. What used to be a huge gap in the jagged rocks has bee destroyed. Instead of the sheet of plants we - I mean I - threw across as a camouflage has been replaced by a monstrous looking material.

"What is it?" I ask, as the darkness proves to hard for me to tell.

"A fallen tree." Layla tells me. "It must have come down in the storm earlier."

I frown. "Wouldn't we have heard it?"

She shrugs. "Obviously not. Gamemakers have a clever way of executing this type of catastrophe in complete silence."

"I guess they just want more action now that we're quite into the Games." I suggest. "How many have died so far?"

Layla thinks for a moment, counting on her fingers. "Erm... eight I think. Unless someone has went in the storm and we missed the canon."

"Yeah, probably around eight or nine then." I summarise. "So they're probably all warmed up for something big. They tend to do something dramatic at this point."

"Ooh, who's the root of all knowledge, Mr Smarty Pants."

I flash her a toothy grin and crawl over to join her. Sitting in front of the should-be-entrance, I lift my hand up to the blockage. My careful fingers run along the material and I instantly recognise the rough texture of tree bark; plus, the smell is a giveaway.

"Well, you were correct when you said it was a tree." I say to Layla. "Lucky for us, the shape of the tree trunk didn't slot perfectly into the cave entrance, so there are small gaps around it."

"Thank goodness." Layla sighs. "At least we'll have oxygen and some light whilst we starve to death."

My heart plummets. "Damn it, how much food do we have left?"

Layla pokes around the supplies and reports back gloomily, "Only enough to last a day; two if we're lucky."

I slump back. "Well, we're not lucky, are we? Getting reaped for this isn't counted as a good luck blessing."

"Actually, I volunteered." Layla corrects me.

"You did?"

She nods her head. "You probably think I'm stupid, don't you? Volunteer at thirteen when I haven't even had lots of training."

"Hmm... yeah, pretty stupid." I agree. "Wait, so who was the Career that didn't volunteer? I remember that one didn't."

"Bryn."

"The one from Two? Short, likes knives and has a glare that could kill a cat?"

Layla laughs, just a little, at my description. "Yup, that's her."

"I thought she seemed the volunteer type. I mean, she's pretty deadly. Seriously, she only missed me by millimetres at the bloodbath and even then, she hit the boy behind me instead."

Layla shrugs and we both fall silent. The sound of our simultaneous breathing disturbing the otherwise empty atmosphere.

We both sit, our backs leaning against the tree trunk which seems firmly stuck, saying nothing. Well, until I speak.

"Why did you volunteer then?" I ask the question that has been on my mind for a while.

Layla sighs. "Nah, it's not really interesting..."

"Tell me." I insist. "It's not like we have no time."

She takes a long, slow breath. "S'pose you're right. But honestly, it's not some bold and courageous tale."

"Just tell me already!"

"Sorry. Right. Yeah." She pauses. "Basically, back in Four life was pretty shit. I lived alone in a shack, had no family or friends, even strangers on the beach hated me. So one day I just thought that I should so something about my life and then decided to volunteer for the big Quell. If I won then maybe people would like me. Pretty sad, eh?"

"What if you lost?" I ask.

She shrugs, one of her favourite actions lately. "Then nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Well no-one would care and I hadn't wasted a life that was going nowhere anyway. Win-win situation really."

For a while, I say nothing. I can't think of what to say or how to say it. Well, what do you say to that? It's pretty much a suicide confession!

"I have a dog at home." I decide to change the subject. "His name is Saxon."

"Aw, nice."

"We were best buddies, Saxon and I. I never really had many human friends, but Saxon was more a friend than any human could ever be." I say, despite the cliché. "I bet he could easily paw his way out of here."

Layla prods the tree behind us. "Shame he's not here to help us out."

"Yeah, he would be great, and he loves forests too."

"Looks like we'll be stuck in here for a while then. Until one of us figures out a genius plan."

I nod. "Probably."

"Well," Layla peels herself off the trunk and gets down on her back. "I'm gonna catch some z's while you come up with a plan."

I shake my head. "It's always up to me, isn't it?"

"You're the eldest."

"Only by a year!"

"Still older."

I stick my tongue out at her. She smirks, then closes her eyes and begins to fall asleep.

"Oh, one thing before you sleep." I say to her.

"What now?" She asks grumpily, without even opening her eyes.

"Keep your eyes shut and stick your fingers in your ears."

She jolts us, eyes flying open. "Why?"

"I need to pee."

A short, disgusted silence.

"PHOSPHORUS! WE'RE IN A DAMN CAVE!"

"Oops?"

Luna Damion, District 11 POV

"The storm has well and truly passed now." Rhea reports, closing the window shutter and sliding over the rusted bolt. "It looks a mess out there though."

Next to me, Heidi yawns. "Should we call it a night then? I'm shattered."

"Looks like Guthrie has beat you to it." I say, pointing to an already sleeping Guthrie. His head has fallen floppily back against the stoned wall, his higher body propped up with a bag. The once deadly wound on his arm has almost shrunk by half.

"Wow, that medicine did a damn good job." Rhea says, noticing the same thing as me. "Thank god he's likeable, or he'd be pretty much dead by now."

"And thanks to my fabulous nursing skills." Heidi adds. Obviously. I was wondering when she'd take some credit...

"Oh yes, of course. Where would we be without you?" Rhea says with a hint of sarcasm.

Heidi pouts her pale pink lips. "You'll be thanking me when I'm dressing your otherwise fatal wound, or stopping you from eating a poisonous berry."

"Fine, when the time comes - if it comes - then I shall appreciate your uses." Rhea settles down in a corner. "Right, I'm gonna get some sleep before I'm forced into another night shift."

Quickly, so that no-one argues with her, Rhea turns on her side and seals herself behind her jacket. It will only be a few minutes before we'll hear the soft sound of her gentle snoring. She doesn't like to admit weakness, but I know she's shattered. Rhea has done the most amount of work with the least amount of sleep out of the whole alliance, even though we have extra hands now that Guthrie and Zephyr are with us. She just hates to be seen doing nothing; a workaholic you could say. So I have no obligation in allowing her a decent sleep.

Heidi, who has still appointed herself as group leader, or organising director as she prefers to call herself, coughs to engage the rest of us who are awake. Which is me, herself and Zephyr.

"So, who's doing the night shift first?" She asks, then adds a dramatic yawn.

"I can do it." Zephyr says. "If you're too tired, _Miss Organising Director_."

Heidi can't help but show a pleased smile. It shouldn't be so easy to make someone smile in the Hunger Games, even someone like Heidi, but Zephyr seems to have a special gift for creating happiness and spreading it around. Maybe it comes from simply being around him; he sort of radiates happiness. Even though you know you're most probably going to die in this arena at anytime, he still manages to crack a smile, or a bad joke. He's like our mini sunshine. And I'm the only one who has seen him as depressed as a cloudy day.

"It's ok, I don't mind doing the shift." I offer. I feel as though I should do something kind in return and also, I'm not particularly tired either.

"Nah, it's ok." Zephyr says. "You get some rest, I'm not really that tired right now."

"Neither am I." I say.

Another yawn from Heidi, this time much more realistic. "You two sort it out between yourselves. I'm going to sleep."

Zephyr turns back to me. "How about we split it? I'll go first, then wake you up in a few hours?"

I'm hesitant whether to agree, as he could end up not waking me up at all, which would make me feel even worse about myself. But I agree anyway. "Ok then. Make sure you wake me up."

He holds out his pinkie finger. "Promise."

"Good." I shuffle against the wall and slide off my jacket, using it as a pillow to cushion my head against the cold, hard stone.

"Goodnight, Luna." Zephyr says to me, whispering so the others don't wake.

"See you in a few hours." I answer and gently close my eyelids. A few minutes later, I open my eyes ever so slightly so that I can see, but still look asleep. I can just make out Zephyr poking the fire with a twisted stick and the flames leaping out at him. The light from the fire, a steady orange glow, casts upon his face and I stare at it dreamily until it fades and darkness takes over.

When I next open my eyes, I can tell that I've been asleep for a while. The formerly roaring fire has dwindled to just a sparkler, the heat barely reaching my toes. But the room aside is dark, so it's far from morning yet.

Rubbing my damp eyes, I sit up. The coldness of the wall shocks me and I jerk my back off it. Looking beside me, I can see shapes of my fellow allies, all sound asleep. In her slumber, Heidi has managed to lie so that her face is pressed up against Guthrie's good arm. I'm not surprised at all, Heidi seems to...like Guthrie - a lot. In fact, I thought she might have done more than lie with her cheek on his bicep - by more I mean her head on his chest or something. But for once, she hasn't gone too far. For once.

I stretch out my arms, loosening my tight shoulders and wipe the remnants of sleep from my eyes. I then hazily crawl over and sit beside a still Zephyr.

"Hey, are you asleep?" I prod his shoulder lightly, just in case he's asleep.

But he isn't, for as soon as he feels my touch, he turns his head to face me.

"Oh hiya, Luna." He says. "It isn't time for your shift yet, you know. Feel free to grab another hour or so."

"No, I'm good thanks." I say. "I couldn't sleep anymore."

"Neither can I." Zephyr says. "Want to stay up together for a while?"

"Sure. We should make the most of the peace."

Zephyr adjusts his position so that he is parallel beside me. The stick that he used to poke the fire is still in his hand and he turns it in his fingers.

"Are you ok?" I ask, sensing something on his mind.

He shrugs. "It depends on what the definition for 'ok' is."

"Which means that there is something wrong." I say. "And don't deny it, I know I'm right."

Zephyr sighs. "Why am I so easy to read?"

"The fact that you aren't smiling or telling a bad joke is a giveaway." I point out.

"What do you call a deer with no eyes?" He asks, but the jokey spark has died in his voice.

"I dunno. What do you call a deer with no eyes?"

"No idea." He answers, saying it so it sounds like no-eyed deer.

I roll my eyes. "That was bad. But I loved it because you told it."

Zephyr shows me a small smile, the corners of his lips curved upwards. "I'm happy now."

"So quickly?"

"Because you're here."

His last sentence makes my stomach flip right over. I'm afraid of blushing in front of him, so I turn my head.

"Hey, why are you turning away?" Zephyr asks and reaches his hand to my face, pulling it back round to face him.

"I didn't want you to see me blushing." I admit, which makes me blush even more.

Zephyr smiles warmly. "I like it when you blush."

He looks at me, his dark eyes staring into mine and making me feel slightly dizzy. It's like the first time we met again. When I tried to lift that heavy weapon and almost dropped it. Almost, because Zephyr was there to catch it. I wish he would catch me instead.

"What are you thinking?" Zephyr asks gently.

"About when we first met in training." I reply.

Zephyr nods. "I remember. You almost sliced off your toes."

"Oh, don't remind me." I say. "That was embarrassing."

"And then you snorted like a little piglet when you laughed." He says.

"Oh no! Not that again!" I wail. Zephyr begins snorting and pulling his pig face again like he did that day. "Please, I sounded awful!"

"You sounded beautiful."

We both stop. Zephyr stops snorting and I stop giggling and protesting. We both sit still for a moment, until I speak softly. "You think I sounded...beautiful?"

He nods. "You don't just sound beautiful, you are beautiful."

I feel a hot flush inside and my head spins. Is this really happening?

"Well I think you're gorgeous." I reply, finding confidence.

"That makes two of us." Zephyr grins.

"Hey! Don't be so arrogant!" I shove his shoulder.

He laughs. "You know my sense of humour, Luna."

"I know you."

"Sadly, I think that's true. But I don't know you completely." He says. "I want to."

"I want you to too."

Zephyr runs his finger down my cheek and tucks a fallen curl behind my ear. I shiver at his touch, it almost feels electric. But I just stay staring into his perfect eyes to keep me from passing out. I only then close my eyelids over when he tilts his head and leans in to me.

I hold my breath as his lips brush against mine, my body tense. I don't know what to do; I've never kissed a boy before, but I think Zephyr has kissed a girl, because he seems to know what he's doing. Or he's had a lucky guess. Well, either way it's amazing.

I eventually pluck up the courage to try to kiss back and I'm quite surprised at myself as I adapt to it effortlessly, as if I've done it a thousand times. My hand, not really sure what to do, rests on his leg as we kiss. And Zephyr's sits perfectly on my waist.

It goes on for a while. But when we at last part, my lips tingle and I feel a pleasant warmness inside, despite the chills of the night.

"Zephyr..." I say his name quietly. "That was..."

"Perfect." He answers. "I've been waiting for that for a while."

I just smile back. I'm glowing, inside and out. I feel fantastic.

But the Zephyr grabs my hands and the slow atmosphere becomes rushed. "What is it?" I ask, worried.

"Luna," Zephyr, still holding my hands, looks at me deeply. "Run away with me."

"What?" I'm shocked at his suggestion.

"Lets leave the others." He says, sounding excited. "They'll be fine on their own. We can leave and go some place alone. We could be together, do what we wanted. We wouldn't have the embarrassment of being ourselves around other people. It would be perfect."

"...perfect?" I think for a moment. "But Heidi and Rhea...they're my friends..."

"And they still can be." Zephyr says. "We know where their shelter is, we can come back. It's not like we're totally abandoning them. They have Guthrie as well."

"I...erm..."

"It's ok, Luna. This is your own choice. If you want to stay with Heidi and Rhea then I'm not stopping you. I just want you to be the happiest you can be."

I glance over to them. They're still asleep, lost in dreams and far away from the reality I'm facing now. If they were awake, what would they say?

Heidi would tell me to go with him, I'm sure. She would see how much I care for him and would tell me to follow my heart and go. She could cope, she'd be fine. But Rhea? She'd probably be sceptical. She would want me to do the most logical thing.

"Ok, Zephyr." I say. "I've decided."

"And?"

I take another look at Heidi and Rhea and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, remembering their faces. And then I look at Zephyr, his soft and gentle features and his lips that kissed mine.

I look back.

"I'll come with you."

* * *

**A/N- Ok, so that is the next installment of the story so far! Did you like it? I liked writing it :D**

**So, what are your opinions on Bryn/Tal? Still like/hate them together? Think they deserved the sponsor gift? What about poor Phosphorus and Layla being stuck in that cave? Will they escape or die inside? And finally, the biggie, what about Luna and Zephyr! Did you expect them to get together? What do you think about them leaving the alliance? Do you think it's a good idea, or a disaster waiting to happen? How do you think Heidi and Rhea will react when they realise they're gone?**

**All shall be revealed... as well as Opus' grand plan... It's all 'heating' up now, isn't it? Haha, heating up, get it? **

**Well, next chapter shall be up soon! And as it's the new year, I'm aiming to get more reviews than ever! Seeing that the story is getting more dramatic, I think there is a lot that can be said. But I can't get reviews without you! And without reviews... well, I shall be sad and lose my inspiration to try and make this one of the best stories you'll read! So please type in that beautiful little box below this message :D**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	27. When All Goes Up In Flames

**A/N- Woosh. Long time, no see... Sorry about that guys... I've just been so busy with South Pacific rehearsals (only about seven weeks left!) and teachers have decided to give me tons of tests all in the same two weeks, so yeah this took a little longer than expected. And gah, it's so frickin' long! I just seemed to write forever and ever, I got a little carried away, with almost 10,000 words...oops? Well good for you guys, to make it up to you, have a long chapter to equal the amount of time you spent waiting. Hopefully it will be worth the wait! Enjoy x**

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Arya Firestone, District 7 POV

Exhaustion is one of those things in life that sneaks up on you. It manages to go unnoticed as it slips discreetly past the conscious part of your brain. There it waits, patiently, until it chooses that one precise moment to launch its attack. And when it strikes, it strikes bad.

I felt this exhaustion only minutes ago; it seemed to hit me almost unexpectedly. Sure, I always felt a little tired, you tend to when you're on full alert every second you're awake. But I hadn't experienced exhaustion until now, not properly anyhow.

And so, here I am, sitting comfortably at the top of a tree; my back leaning gratefully against the trunk and my legs stretched out on the branch in front. I keep my bag hooked on a branch to my left and allow my hands to rest lazily on my thighs. And the sky is a lovely wash of blue, indigo and ivory white. If it were real, I'd say it was beautiful. But because it's not, I call it deceiving.

Deceit is a word I have often thought about since entering the arena. That's because it's everywhere I look; every tree, rock, creature - they're all man-made and false. Everything in here is set deliberately, planned; nature has had no input. Even the curling vines that climb the tree I'm sitting in look natural, like the sun taught them to grow and the trunk of the tree helped them to stand. They look real, but they're not.

Every time I go to admire something, like an unusual plant or even a strange looking creature, I have to remind myself of its pretence and fake identity. I tell myself that it is not a beauty, but probably some kind of trap or deadly forgery that I will later end up regretting looking at. I learnt to avoid these eye-catching things. But sitting here, beneath the even so beautiful colours, I make an exception. I'll ignore the safety checks and the flashing warnings. No, a meteorite is not going to come crashing down and crush me alive. But you can't be too sure. Oh well, I shall give into the relaxing above and allow myself to enjoy it.

Until I come to regret it later.

Without realising when, I find myself asleep. I know I'm asleep because I'm dreaming. And I know I'm dreaming because squirrels don't talk. They're leaping around the tree by the abundance, scurrying between branches and running over my legs; yet I feel nothing of the soft paws that touch me. As they move, swift and elegant, I can hear their tiny voices, all merging together. At first, they're all saying different things and the words are all jumbled. But after a while, the words become clearer and they all seem to start talking simultaneously.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up." The little creatures murmur in a voice that sounds almost human. "Wake up."

Confused, I look at all the squirrels around me. They line the tree tops, leaping from one branch to another with their bouncing tails following in pursuit. All heading in the same direction; towards me, then disappearing behind. Shifting my position, I crane my neck over my shoulder to look where I couldn't see before. And it's odd what I see. Even for a dream. As the squirrels pass the tree I'm in, they evaporate into pockets of released smoke. Every single one of them. It's like a barrier forcing halting their passage. They know they can't get through, they can see the others go before them, but yet they keep on running. They keep on running to their death.

I turn back, feeling slightly bemused by my recent sight. And all I can think of are the evaporating squirrels and they way they kept on running, despite knowing the dangers. Maybe they're trying to tell me something, dreams always have meaning, right? Well what if this is a warning message? But a message saying what?

_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up._ That's what they were saying before. I know it sounds stupid, but I am convinced now that this is some kind of omen in the form of a dream. And if it is an omen, then I'm best following the advice given. _Wake up. _

But how does one wake oneself up from a dream?

Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I try to concentrate. The sounds of the running and talking squirrel have minimised to virtually nothing, so I can focus on that arduous task of waking myself up.

Wake up, Arya. Wake up. I order myself within my mind. I'm telling my brain to wake up, so maybe my brain will tell the rest of my body? Wake up, wake up.

"Wake up, Arya, wake-" I open my eyes. The squirrels have gone and I'm back in reality. Thank goodness.

Just to make sure, I pinch my arm. When I feel a tight pain, I know I'm awake. But now, to face the music. What was I being warned about?

I see it almost instantly. A forest fire.

My first instinct is to scream; but what would that do? It would give away my position and attract unwanted attention, that's for sure. So screaming is not an option. And my second instinct is to run; but that is sort of difficult to proceed with when one is sitting at the near top of a rather tall tree. So I guess thinking logically would be the best thing to do, straight after tossing my instincts aside.

Being from District Seven, I'm not stranger to forest fires. I've seen a great many in my sixteen years of life so far and only experienced being close to a couple of them. But it's as if this fire is different; although it looks the same as any other fire of its kind, it seems to act in an odd way. It's almost purposeful, like someone is controlling how the flames move and where they strike next. It's like- hold on a second, someone _is _controlling it! Of course, it's the Gamemakers jazzing up the arena to keep people interested. And I'm guessing that they're planning on causing a death or two, three if they're lucky.

Luck for them is torture for me. If I'm hurt, wounded or even killed, they'll celebrate it. It's sick really, that some people find it entertaining to put twenty four kids in an arena to fight 'til the death. But now is not the time for defiancy, as if I don't get a move on, I'll be toasted alive. How delectable.

Keeping an eye on the fire at all times, as anything could happen when my back is turned, I slide my bag off the branch beside me and loop it tightly around my shoulders. I'd hate to lose it whilst I'm fleeing for my life.

With the constant threat of the flames on my mind, I fumble my way down the tree, my descending skills knocked by anxiety and fear. I even scrape my shins a few times on the rough bark and when I land on the floor, my ankles crack under my weight. I'm not heavy, I just jumped down a little too far above the ground than I should have. Oh well, not to worry, I have bigger fish to fry before they fry me.

Behind me, I can sense the fire is growing. Now that I'm on ground level, the speed in which the flames engulf the wildlife has increased rapidly. It is no longer an orange light in the distance, but a giant torch shining right at me, casting me in the spotlight. The Gamemakers want a chase. Arya vs. fire. And how coincidental that my surname is _Fire_stone, how very fitting.

A crack from nearby jolts me into action. I listen to the sound of the roots tearing from the soil and plummeting the tree to the earth. Seconds later, the ground beneath my feet shakes from the pressure and I catch my foot on something.

My hands shoot out in time to break my fall at the cost of a possible sprained wrist. Cursing under my breath from the new found pain that absorbs my wrist, I grimace and get back to running.

I hold my hand close to my stomach, tensing my hand into a fist and feeling the throbs of blood as it pumps through my veins. My teeth are clamped firmly together and my eyes focus forwards. I can use my hearing to sense changes in the fire, I've always had good ears and I at home I often found myself accidentally overhearing conversations that I weren't meant to hear. At least my bat-like sense will be put to good practise.

A fallen tree blocks my path and I see no other way round it, except to jump and hope to land safely. Thankfully, it's only a small tree, so I pluck up my courage and speed up, preparing for my leap of faith. Sucking in my breath, I power onwards and as I reach the tree, I push down on my legs and surge upwards. My stomach flips as my feet just manage to scrape over the top of the trunk and I land with a wobbled thump on the other side.

My head quickly turns and I look over my shoulder. The fire is just on my tail.

No time for a breather, I leap straight up and propel forwards. I haven't quite regained my balance, so I swerve to the side, exactly where the fire is racing beside me. I feel a searing pain as my shoulder skims lightly across the orange flames. I yelp as the heat burns through my already torn jacket and kisses my skin. I can almost hear my skin sizzling and tears start to break in my eyes. With my other hand, I quickly wipe the dampness away and clear my vision.

I have barely any space to move into to escape the flames that just touched me. On my left, more trains of fire run along side me, closing me in. I'm secluded, nowhere to run but forwards. So I take the only path I have available, which happens to be clotted with thorned bushes.

As I fastly approach the brambles, I bite my lower lip as I expect to be torn at by the prickles and thorns. With one blink, I'm taken from air and pushed into a mad cluster of intertwining bushes. My feet snag on the claw like branches by the ground and I stumble a few times. Spears of the bushes scratch down my arms as I try to push aside the plant to avoid having my eyes cut out.

Blood pours down my arms, dripping off the ends of my fingertips and staining the thorns a deep crimson. I can still feel the heat of the fire on either side of me and it's that reminder of my burn that keeps me from giving up. Oh, and the fact that I'm not a quitter.

Eventually, after the longest minute of my life, I break free from the bushes and fall on my hands and knees in the empty space in front. I haven't the strength to stand again to run, so I crawl along the forest floor towards the beautiful sight of the river. Tears sting my eyes and dirt from the ground soak into my open wounds. But I'm almost there and I won't give in.

I'm crying quite hysterically when I reach the shores of the river and with nary a backwards glance, I throw myself into the cooling waters.

Clear liquid washes over me, cleansing my cuts and sending ripples of relief all through my body. The water is kind and I allow myself to let go as I lie in it's embrace. Pulling off my destroyed jacket, I stare in dismay at my torn arms. The skin is shattered and scattered wounds flap in the current of the river. Anxiously, I look down to shoulder and almost cry out in shock. The once pale skin that lay across has all been burned off, leaving just raw flesh and an agony I can't find the words to describe.

But I'm still alive, that's the main thing. Even if I may not last much longer.

Layla Roberts, District 4 POV

The air smells of pee. Its bitter and oh so distinctive odour lingering in the air like unwanted fog on a fishing trip. If only I didn't have to breathe; as with every breath, the stench enters my nostrils or seeps into the back of my throat and sticks like a tongue on ice. But no, humans need oxygen to live. And if only there were big enough gaps for fresh air to enter and flush out the bad. But again, no, a stupid tree has to go and fall, trapping the air inside and only allowing in enough in to breathe normally. Typical.

I take in a cautious breath, but still the smell of dying urine enters my nostrils. I almost gag.

"What the hell are you doing?" Phosphorus gives me a confused look. "You look like you're choking or something."

"I am choking." I say. "I'm choking on pee-vapour infested air."

Phosphorus chuckles, but oddly enough, I am not amused. Sarcasm intended.

"Why are you laughing?!" I exclaim.

"_Pee-vapour infested air?_" Phosphorus says, still laughing. "Are you being serious?"

I narrow my eyes. "I am being deadly serious, Mr Piss-phorus."

"Mr Piss-phorus?!" His laughs increase at the new nickname and I find it hard to resist joining him.

"Actually, it has quite a ring to it, don't you think?"

"I think I preferred Sniper, to be brutally honest."

"Yeah well, tough." I decide to play mean. "Piss-phorus suits you better at the current moment. Seeing that you're not up in some trees doing whatever, Sniper doesn't fit anymore."

Phosphorus sticks out his lower lip, his way of showing that he thinks I'm cruel to him. It makes him look a hell of a lot younger than his fourteen years, and his small frame knocks off another year or two. Overall, he could pass as a twelve year old boy. Maybe younger if he dressed differently and tried hard enough.

Speaking of dressing differently, an image of his parade costume enters my mind. Dressed as an elf/woodcutter type thing, he was sporting a pair of tights and a rather hilarious outfit that slightly resembled a pixie dress. That image has never left my mind...as well as that of Tal in his shimmering net creation...

"Hello?" A hand waves in front of my face. "Earth to Layla."

I shake my head and blink a few times fast in a row. "What, what?"

"You went off on some random daydream or something." He replies. "You virtually zoned out entirely that you didn't even hear me fart."

Of all the sentence and the things he mentioned, I only pick up one thing. "_YOU FARTED_?!"

Phosphorus smirks. "Maybe, or maybe I was just saying that to get your attention. Then and again, farting is a natural bodily process."

I glare at him. "I swear, if it smells then I am going to-"

Phosphorus holds his hand up, halting my sentence. His face falls and his body goes still. It's like he's listening out for something.

After a short while, he speaks quietly. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I ask, turning my head.

"That..." He says. "...like a crackling sound from outside."

I concentrate, listening out for the so called 'crackling'. I hear nothing at first, but after persisting for a minute or two, I understand what he means. A sort of heavy rustling, not like blowing leaves, much heavier than that. It's sort of like when you have a bonfire and the fire is so huge that some of the flames start leaping out and it's the sound when they separate from the burning wood.

"I hear it." I say. "It does sound like crackling. What could it be?"

Phosphorus frowns, deeply in thought, and then scrunches up his nose. At first I prepare to yell at him, thinking he's about to mention the smell of the fart, but then I notice a new smell myself. It's quite a certain smell, one not to be misinterpreted.

Smoke.

I turn my head and move my eyes along to the randomly spaced gaps around the fallen tree. And I see what I was dreading to see. Thin, but constant, wisps of grey smoke, drifting into the cave.

"Oh my god." I can't help but say. "There's a frickin' fire out there."

I turn to Phosphorus, expecting him to leap into action. He's supposed to be the one with the brains here. But instead, his face has gone a shade that is even lighter than white. And I swear I can see tiny droplets of sweat breaking along his forehead.

"Phosphorus?" I say, worried. "Please don't sit in a trance. I need your help."

"Sorry..." His words are weak. "I'm..ok. Just..."

"Panicking over here!" I finish for him, grabbing a knife and darting towards the tree. "We need to get this out the way - _now_."

Knife in hand, I begin hacking at the trunk. At first they're wildly thrown slashes, but I soon get into a rhythm and manage to hit around the same spot.

"C'mon, Phos!" I yell over to him. "I kinda need your help here!"

Phosphorus nods, not speaking, and scrambles for his crossbow. I'm not sure what exactly he's going to use it for, but I let him get on with it and concentrate on my contribution.

My arm moves quickly back and forth, sawing onto the bark and gradually loosening it. I have no idea how I'll get through the tree with just a knife; I need an axe preferably; but I'm so desperate to break through that I carry on despite it. The smoke, being closer to outside is getting heavier. I try not to breathe it in, but I occasionally suck down a mouthful of grey gas. And I cough each time.

Phosphorus who has decided against helping me, is on his knees with his hands pressed against the tree.

"Layla," He says to me. "quit sawing, it won't do anything."

Ignoring his order, I keep sawing. "But it's the only thing we can do; it's not like we can kick the tree out of the way or anything."

"Not kick, but push maybe." He replies. "The fire and smoke would have weakened the trunk. It should be possible to move if we try hard enough."

Choosing to trust his judgement, seeing that he is from a district that specialises in lumber, I stop sawing and slide the knife into a slot in my belt. Adjusting my position so that I'm identical to Phosphorus, I knee before the tree and rest my palms on the rough bark.

"Ok, so on the count of three." Phosphorus says. "One...two...three!"

I surge forwards, using all my strength and will that I can gather. There's a groan as the tree budges a little and I almost whoop in relief. Little Phosphorus knows what he's talking about.

"Again!" Phosphorus shouts and we both push once more. This time, I dig my knees into the ground and use extra strength from my thighs and core to push the tree. We both almost topple onto our faces as the tree rolls free and a gush of smoke washes over us.

"Phosphorus, grab your stuff and lets get outta here!" I shout over the new found background noise of the forest.

Through the clouds of smoke, I see him nod and scuttle to grab his rucksack and crossbow. I take mine, swing it over my shoulder and scramble to my feet and out of the cave.

Stepping around the tree, I'm plummeted into a haze of red, orange and yellow. The trees are on fire. the bushes are on fire; even the leaves on the ground are on fire. Everything is on fire! And even the spaces between the burning plants are clotted with a smoke darker than the one I breathed in before.

For a few moments, I'm frozen. Gormless. In awe. Towering walls of flickering flames encase me and all of a sudden, I feel smaller than I've ever felt before. Like an ant stranded in an open meadow, huge blades of emerald grass looming over. Or a fleck of pollen on the blank and vast canvas of a flower petal.

A shiver crawls down my spine, despite the heat. Actually, it's more like a shudder than a shiver. I'm just gathering my thoughts when Phosphorus comes stumbling beside me. His body is almost violently shaking, his lips sucked in and his eyes darting about anxiously. He looks absolutely terrified. And so am I, really.

"Wh wha what do we d d do?" He asks me, his voice stuttered and stammering.

My eyes scan desperately over the shields of fire for an escape route to safety. But the smoke proves difficult to see through and I have to waft it away from my face with a trembling hand. Once a sort of clear view is present, I spot a small path that breaks the walls of flames.

"Follow me." I grab Phosphorus' arm. "Run."

Dragging him behind me, we sprint to the gap between the trees. The heat is intensifying; I can feel it boiling like water in a saucepan. I'm close to cooking in my own skin. The smoke swirls all around us, attempting to put us off course, but my eyes are set and there is no way I'm going to lose this. Not now. I'm not ready to die yet - if I have to then I'd at least want to make the final eight.

Behind me, Phosphorus stumbles clumsily. But my hand is still gripped onto his wrist, so I haul him up before he falls.

"S..sorry." He pants behind me, not from tiredness, as we haven't run far, but from fear. I can feel his pulse racing beneath the thin layer of skin on his wrist and I can hear it in his voice. I'm no expert on reading people, but I'm almost certain that fire is his biggest fear. And the Gamemakers know this, hence the tree blocking us in. They probably did that deliberately to ensure we were in the centre of the fire. Because this is Phosphorus' biggest fear and the Quell is all about fear...

The cynical gap stretches before me and I draw in a sharp breath as I throw myself through it. The heat from the fire around scorches my skin and the smoke stings my eyes. I close them for a brief second.

When my eyelids flick open again, I'm still alive. A sense of relief washes over me, but it's far from over yet.

Clenching my fists, I suddenly feel the empty gap of air and realise that Phosphorus is no longer with me. And I went through before him and didn't see him follow. _Oh crap. Crap crap crap. _Panicked, I spin around in time to see his frail looking silhouette staggering towards me. I rush over to him and throw my arms around his stick thin frame.

When I quickly pull back, Phosphorus just looks at me. It's no time for all hugs and smiles, because a sudden crack behind us sends our hearts pulsating. I think the forest is giving up to the flames.

"Quick, we need to get to the river." I say to Phosphorus as we start running. "I know where it is, so stay close."

He nods as he runs, his face still pale as ever and his blonde hair plastered to his wet forehead.

I sprint, my mind running through the directions to reach the river. I know it's pretty close to the cave, as I followed the water in the first place to find the shelter, it's just a matter of turning at the right point, which is showing to be a tad more difficult than I hoped.

Still close to me, I can hear Phosphorus' heavy breathing and his ill-footed steps. Normally, he's rather agile and fast, but with the threats of the fire beside him, he's falling away from his usual self. It's like the heat is evaporating out his true abilities. Like when there is fire around, fear takes over his mind and body.

As soon as the river is in sight, I notice the rippling blue waters instantly. It stands out above all the orange and other colours of the fire.

"Phosphorus!" I call over my shoulder. "I can see the river! We're almost there! We can make it!"

He doesn't reply, but I expect he's keeping his energy to run the last stretch. Just to check that he's still with me, just in case, I look over my shoulder.

Phosphorus has fallen behind by quite a distance. I should have noticed earlier, but I was too busy concentrating on finding the river that I didn't think to check. It's not a huge distance, but I'd prefer it to be a little shorter if I'm honest, as the fire seems to be growing behind him.

I slow down, virtually stopping to let him catch up. As he passes one of the larger trees I've seen in the forest, a threatening groan escapes from the trunk. My eyes dart to the tree to see it sway, pulling from the securities of the ground. It looks unstable. Too unstable for my liking.

"Phos!" I shout to him urgently. "Hurry! I think the tree is getting loose!"

Hearing my warning, he looks up to the huge and powerful looking tree. I see him gulp and propel his legs faster, but exhaustion restricts his top speed.

I watch, the moments tense, as he makes an attempt to outrun the tree's length. My eyes flick from him to the tree, the tree to him. They're testing each other, see who can last the longest. My heart is in my mouth as I see what I dreaded to see.

The top of the tree snaps away from the bottom. A frightening wail of a moan sounds from the tree as it loses it's upright position and gives in to gravity.

"PHOSPHORUS!" I scream as the tree's shadow casts over him. I know he can feel it coming, but something in his eyes tells me that he doesn't believe he'll make it.

"NOOO!" I cry and reach my hands out, as if to stop the tree from hitting the ground. But of course, I'm way out of distance.

And so, I watch in utter horror as the body of the tree falls, crushing my friend beneath it's monstrous weight. And then the canon fires and it's over.

Kelvin Galloway, District 2 POV

I swallow the last mouthful of cracker, the dry clumps of wheat and seeds scratching my throat and making me feel uncomfortably thirsty. Wiping the crumbs from around my mouth, I reach for the flask of water and unscrew the lid. The rim of the flask is cold against my moisture-deprived lips, but the sensation of water trickling down my throat soon pushes it aside. I gulp down a few mouthfuls and put the lid back on.

"And this is the time when you wish you had some coffee." Ray says, placing his own flask into his rucksack. "I just don't have the energy right now, I really don't."

"Then why don't you stay here while Kelvin and I find our way back to camp?" Brooklyn suggests hopefully. Spending the last twelve hours or so with Ray has put her in a grumpy mood. Hurrah. Doesn't everything?

"Good suggestion, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass." Ray replies. "In an ideal world I would sleep for twenty three hours and drink coffee for one. But unfortunately, we're here and most of the supplies are not,"

"We could send you food and water daily. Then you could stay here." Brooklyn offers almost kindly.

Ray frowns. "One would think you were trying to get rid of me."

Brooklyn shakes her head. "Oh no, Raymond. There are much simpler ways of doing that." Her finger runs delicately along the blade of her axe and she looks at it promisingly. The thought is running through her mind; I mean it's not like she wouldn't, she has already killed Jacob who was a potential ally. And she killed that rather big dude from Eleven with a quick toss of her axe. Killing Ray now, unprepared, would be easy.

So just in case any irrational decisions are made, I decide to jump in. "Well, let's not go that far, shall we? I'm sure we're all just tired and groggy after a bad night's sleep."

"Ugh, bad doesn't even come close." Brooklyn moans. "You two were snoring like a pair of wild pigs on a stag do."

I raise my eyebrows at the comparison. Ray chuckles and stands.

"Right, well I'm going to continue being manly and go for a piss if you don't mind." He begins to walk out the room. "I'll find a nice, empty cupboard somewhere..."

"Ray, just go pee. We don't need any extra info." Brooklyn sounds disgusted and Ray smirks as he disappears outside.

And then there were two.

"So..." I attempt to start a conversation. Brooklyn ignores the hint and goes back to her hair. She runs her fingers through her long locks, pulling through knots until it hangs smoothly and untangled. She then sweeps it up into a ponytail within a matter of nanoseconds. How girls can do that, I do not know.

"So, about Ray..." I start saying.

"What about him?" Brooklyn asks sharply.

"Well, um, nothing is...erm, _going on _between you two, then?" I ask the question that I've been meaning to ask for a while, but never got the chance because Ray was always there.

Brooklyn just rolls her eyes. "As if."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, as if I would be interested in Ray." She answers. "He's was too annoying and full of himself. In fact, his ego is bigger than yours, which must be a record."

I go to protest, but decide against it. It would only cause us to fall off subject and I'd never get my answer.

"Right... well, so erm..." I struggle with how to say what I want to say. "...what about your erm, kiss?"

At the mention of the 'kiss' a small smile appears on her lips. "You still hung up about that?"

I shrug. "Well, I'm just wondering...if you said you're not interested in him, then why kiss him?"

"Is it not obvious to you, Kelvin?" Brooklyn says, still smiling. "Are you really that clueless?"

"Um.."

"I kissed Ray to make you jealous!"

I go to reply, but I find myself unable to. All I can manage to say is, "What?"

Brooklyn shakes her head slowly. "Oh Kelvin, Kelvin, Kelvin. Poor little Kelvin. It's a compliment, you idiot. I kissed Ray because I wanted you to notice me."

"But I already noticed you... You knew I fancied you like mad." I manage to speak in full sentences again. "I don't understand why you needed to make me jealous?"

"I just thought you needed a nudge in the right direction; you didn't seem likely to make a move any time soon, probably because your fat ego got in the way."

"I do not have a fat ego!"

"Yes you do."

"Fine, you do too!"

"I know I do." She says, which shocks me. "I know I can be a bit of a drama queen, who wants everything her way, but that's how I was brought up. And that's what makes us two so similar."

I didn't notice it before, but slowly Brooklyn has been moving towards me. I only notice it now because she's sitting right in front of me, her wicked eyes looking up and down my face, examining my expression.

For a moment, I think she's going to kiss me, but then the sound of footsteps marking Ray's return demolishes the moment that could have been more than just a moment...

"Ok, my bladder is all empty, you'll be glad to know." His voice wanders into the room, closely followed by himself.

Brooklyn and I are still inches apart and we both know there isn't enough time to quickly scuttle away from each other. So it's either be seen by Ray and be accused of something, or do something drastic to put him off course.

And typically, Brooklyn decides to take action by slapping me hard across the face and yelling to me. "UGH, YOU'RE SUCH A COCKY LITTLE JERK!"

I don't know what surprised me the most; the slap or the yelling. But at least it will look realistic to Ray, who stands watching us with an annoyingly smug look on his face.

"I knew you two couldn't be alone for two minutes without ripping each other's heads off." He says, picking up his rucksack. "We'd best get going before you have another argument. Oh, and nice slap, Brooklyn."

Brooklyn stands and backs away from me. "Well I've had lots of practise."

"And Kelvin, I think the red hand print suits you." Ray says as I get to my feet, taking my own bag. "It makes you look a little more savage."

_And you'd know all about being savage, wouldn't you?_ I think to myself, resisting the urge to say it out loud. _You and you're cheap comments and boring humour..._

Feeling tight inside, I shove past him, taking control and leading us outside. I need to show him that _I'm _the boss around here. That _I'm _the big Career here. That _I'm _the Galloway and that Galloway's will not be put down by over-arrogant dweebs from District Five.

We walk outside, me in front and the other two just behind. I can hear Ray whispering something to Brooklyn, most probably something about me, but right now I don't really give a toss. Let him talk about me as much as he'd like. See how I care.

After walking for about ten minutes, something catches my eye. A few houses back, clouds of smoke puff out from the roof. Smoke that can only come from one thing. Fire. And where there's fire, there's a fire starter.

"Guys." I say, stopping and turning around to face them.

"What is it now?" Brooklyn sighs. "We're not lost are we? Because I told you-"

"No, we're not lost." I cut off her sentence. "I just saw something."

"Saw what exactly?" Ray asks. "Like a tribute or something?"

"Or something..." I reply. "I saw smoke, from a fire. And it was coming from one of the houses."

"So you're thinking there's a tribute there?" Ray says.

"No, he was thinking we should go and toast marshmallows on it." Brooklyn says sarcastically. "Of course he thinks there's a tribute there you idiot."

"Exactly." I say, agreeing with Brooklyn. "And I think we should go check it out - scrap that, I mean we _will _go and check it out."

Not waiting for any replies, I head off in the direction of the smoke. The others trail behind me and I feel gleefully smug with myself. Life is so much better when you're the one making orders. And it gets even better when others actually follow them.

Swinging my sword in my hand, I stroll onwards, thinking about how to end the tribute's life. Obviously I get to do the kill, seeing that I'm the leader and I was the one who found them in the first place. I'm debating whether to kill them slowly and painfully, or quickly but with the same amount of pain. Should I let them beg for mercy for a while, or should I just end it? Hmm...decisions, decisions.

As we near the house, the air seems to get thicker. And foggier, much foggier. But it's almost strange, as the fog is warm and quite choking... Unless it isn't fog at all.

Behind me, Brooklyn coughs. "Ugh, I hate smoke."

Ah, smoke. Of course. We must be closer than I thought.

"Should we like crawl or something?" Ray suggests. "Doesn't smoke rise?"

"Yeah, but I'm not crawling. Not yet." Brooklyn says. "Hey, Kelvin, are you sure there's someone here because there's an awful lot of smoke for one person to create."

I refuse to give in. There must be someone here. There must. "Yeah, I think I saw their shadow."

She says no more on the subject as we walk further into the grey clouds. It lingers in the air in tight clumps, pulling together as one grey block of smoke. I use my hand to try and wave aside the smoke so that I can see where we're heading. But as soon as it goes, it comes back again.

"Kelvin." I hear Brooklyn behind me. "I *cough* can't go any *cough* further in this smoke. I'm *cough* gonna go back and *cough* wait for you guys."

"You sure?" I call back to her. "I know you can handle yourself, so it's ok if you go back."

"I know it's *cough* ok, dumbass."

"Sorry. Right, well we'll meet you after. I'm going to continue, Ray are you staying?"

Ray clears his throat and at first, I think he's going to quit too. "Yeah, sure. I can cope with a bit of smoke."

"Then it's settled." I conclude and look over my shoulder to Brooklyn. "You can make your way back to camp if you want to."

She shakes her head. "No *cough*. I'll wait down *cough* the road."

I nod in reply and she turns, her hand across her mouth as she walks away. It doesn't take long before the smoke engulfs her silhouette and she's gone. And then I'm left with Ray.

We walk on for a bit, only another minute or two, before Ray starts to cough quite violently. I'm coughing a little, but it doesn't bother me as much as finding the tribute does.

"Hey, man." Ray addresses me. "Sorry, but I'm dropping out too. Smoke's too bad now. I think you should come back too. The tribute will probably be well gone now."

I shake my head, refusing. "No, I'm staying. You go back and I'll see you in a bit."

I start walking off and Ray calls after me. "Kel! I wouldn't if I were you! Kel!"

But I ignore him until I'm out of both sight and earshot. _And then there was one, _I think to myself.

After a while, I start to realise that there isn't anyone here. I'm in the house and there isn't any sign of a tribute. Nothing whatsoever. Feeling frustrated, I kick out my foot and because the smoke hid it, I crash my toes into a wall. I hear a crack and tiny darts of pain shoot up and down my foot.

"For crying out loud!" I yell to no-one in particular. "Why does everything have to go wrong for me?!"

Feeling deflated, I let myself collapse to the floor. The smoke that has entered my lungs is making me drowsy and I try coughing it back up. But my throat is dry and coughing makes it feel worse. I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my head on top. My temples throb and my head pounds and suddenly, I feel really alone.

Why did I have to be such an arrogant arsehole? Why didn't I just listen to the others and stay behind? I'm just to proud to admit that I was wrong. I always got things my own way, I was always the leader. But since coming into the Games, I start to doubt myself sometimes. I know I act like I'm great and full of myself, but actually I'm not so sure. Maybe it's because my Dad was such a great victor that I want to be great like him. Except I'm not, am I? I'm just a wannabe. I don't think with logic, I think with fists. I make enemies, not friends. I don't even know what Brooklyn sees in me. Probably nothing. I bet she only kissed me back because she fancied me. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I am such an idiot." I say out loud to myself.

"No, you're not." A voice replies and I look up in surprise. But no-one is there. No-one. Just smoke, and a lot of it too.

"Who's there?" I ask, peering through the smoke.

But no reply. I must have been imagining it. It's the smoke playing on my mind. That's all. And so, I put my head in my hands and try to think normally.

Around me, I can hear the sound of distant crackling and smell the dark smell of burning. The temperature around me seems to have rocketed up by about one hundred degrees. Lifting up my head, I realise that I must have fallen asleep. Not for a while, but long enough.

Looking to my left, I can see flames of deadly fire licking their way across the ground towards me. The flames, like claws, swipe out to me and I find myself shuffling backwards on my bottom. I try to stand to run from the fire, but I haven't got the energy and my legs can't support me anymore. And then, I come to a shuddering and painful halt as my back collides with a wall behind.

I'm trapped. And the fire knows it.

Scrambling to my knees, I start crawling clumsily towards the exit. I get about a metre closer, but my arms give in and I crumble to the ground. My head hits the stoned floor and my eye sight goes hazy. Everything is spinning, the world is a blur and all I can make out is the floods of red racing towards me.

And that's when the flashback comes. It's all in bits and pieces to begin with. Screams, wails and cries. Names being called. Aid being called. Me being called.

"Kelvin!" My mother cries out. "Where are you?"

"I'm here, Mommy!" I call croakily. My throat is burning from the smoke I'm breathing in.

"Kelvin!" She repeats.

"Mommy..." I say, my voice beginning to fail me. "I'm here, Mommy..."

And as my eyelids finally close and my mouth no longer forms words, I hear my name being called one last time. But this time, it's not my Mom calling me.

"Kelvin!" I smile and let sleep take over.

Brooklyn Virgona, District 1 POV

The smoke was too bad, too thick and much too risky. It had started to gather in my lungs and no matter how hard I coughed, refused to come out. Breathing had become difficult and I was worried that I may stop all together. Plus, it was extremely difficult to see where I was walking, so it was obvious that we would end up even more lost than we were to begin with.

And that is why I quit. Ok, when I say quit, I mean dropped out for medical reasons.

So now, I'm trailing back in the direction I think we came, alone. Ray and Kelvin carried on because they're big, tough boys, right? Well I'm not being a little wimpy girl, I just saw sense. In fact, whilst I'm on my way back to safety (well as safe as you can get), those two are off walking into a disaster waiting to happen. It's stupid really, but boys are boys and you've gotta let them have some pride at least. It's much more fun that way, I think.

I walk along, holding a cupped hand across my mouth and nose to cover them from breathing in as much smoke. I've already breathed in enough, so now it's a case of limiting my intake rather than preventing it totally.

As I pass the buildings on either side of me, the air starts to clear. The once thick, muggy clouds of smoke have begun drifting off and almost disappearing into tiny whisps that dance in the surroundings.

Out of reach from the remaining fogs of smoke, I decide that I'm at a suitable place to stop. I'm standing at the back of a house in a supposed alley and I look around for something to sit on, as the dusty floor is not an option. Also, does sitting on the floor give you bad posture? Or is my head so messed up that I totally just made that up? Yeah, probably the second.

"Hmm..." I pace around and eventually find a low wooden crate to sit on. It's a little closer to the ground than I would have liked, but it will do. I'm sure I won't be here long; the boys will surely realise what a stupid idea it is and turn back. In fact, I bet they're on their way now as I think this.

I sit for a minute, my legs held in an awkward position: my knees bend slightly, with my feet neither on nor off the ground, sort of bits of both. My throat feels a little tight, so I dig in my bag and retrieve my water bottle. Flicking open the lid, I pour some refreshing liquid down my throat and scowl when no more comes out and the bottle is empty.

I hear the footsteps before I see the body advancing towards me. It's Ray, unfortunately, but I'm kind of glad I'm not alone anymore. It was beginning to get boring.

"What's with the elephant feet?" I say, standing. "I thought it was a stampede for a moment. I was getting prepared to flee for my life."

"Haha, very funny." Ray says dryly, sounding out of breath. "Brooklyn, we-"

"Hey, where's Kelvin?" I cut him off by pointing out our ally's absence.

"That was what I was getting to." Ray answers, drawing in a long breath. "Well, a short while after you left, I dropped out too. But Kelvin said he'd carry on alone. Of course, I tried to convince him otherwise, but he refused to listen and went anyway. Because the smoke was so thick there, he just simply vanished and ignored my callings."

"So he's off hunting a tribute that has most probably left by now, or is on the brink of death?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Great."

I bite the end of my nail, a habit I've never really had, and I think. "What would possess him to be so stupid?"

"Pride, bravery, reward..._his ego_?" Ray lists some possibilities, all of which sound true to Kelvin.

I sigh. "Ugh, what are boys like? They always do things without thinking them through. That's where males and females tend to differ."

"Well, I think we should go get him before he ends up killing himself or something." Ray says.

I frown. "I don't think I wanna go back there..."

"You don't have to, I'll go alone." He says, then adds hopefully, "Of course, I'd like you to come though."

"Erm.." I weigh up the options. Option 1: Risk more smoke damage and retrieve my ally-who-I-think-I-have-feelings-for-in-some-annoying-way. Option 2: Let Ray risk more smoke damage whilst I sit around like a loner. And Option 3: Stuff them both and head back to camp.

Hmm, although options 2 and 3 are tempting (especially option 3), I guess I have to go for the first. After all, we are in an alliance right? Besides, if this ends well then it's something I can use against him for my own personal enjoyment.

"Ok," I turn to Ray. "Let's go."

A small smile forms on his lips and he twists on his heels and starts walking back in the direction he came. I follow right after him, walking slightly faster to catch up beside him. The smoke is still pretty much non-existent right now, but I know that will change very soon.

As we approach almost like a wall of grey, I suddenly jolt as I feel a hand grabbing mine. At first I think it's Kelvin, or someone lurking in the unseen territory, but I soon look down and realise that it's only Ray.

"Oi, get off!" I yank my hand from his, feeling intruded. "Who said you could hold my hand?!"

Ray shrugs. "I just thought if we held hands, then we wouldn't lose each other and end up at square one again?"

I scowl at him. "No, you thought that you could use this as an excuse to get closer to me."

"Well don't blame a dude from trying." He says simply, not even denying it. "I just thought, you know, after we kissed the other day that...maybe..."

"That kiss was nothing, Ray. A joke. A go at winding you up. I dunno, but it wasn't real. No way."

He looks a little hurt, but he's a tough lad, he'll get over it.

"Well, let's just stay in sight of each other so we don't get lost then." He tries to cover up what I just said and powers forwards. "C'mon, we need to find him quickly."

Glad I finally told him the truth...well half truth, I follow in pursuit. As we near the point where I dropped out, the smoke begins thicker and I start struggling to breathe normally again. As I cough, Ray notices and slows down. He slides off his jacket and hands it over to me.

"Here, use this. It might help your breathing." He says. I'm sure it's just another subtle way of trying to get with me, but I accept it anyway. As I hold the jacket across my mouth and nose, the smell of Ray hits my nostrils hard. And I can say, it's not a particularly pleasant smell.

Ray uses his own hand to cover his mouth and nose and he leads me the way he came with Kelvin.

"This is where I left." He tells me. "Kelvin went straight on, I think."

I nod, for the jacket limits my ability to reply and I'm not so keen on the idea of removing it. Not when I'm wandering through smoke this thick.

We keep walking, but there is no sign of Kelvin. I almost feel like giving up and Ray looks the same. I'm sure we're just on a wild goose-chase and that Kelvin either turned back or went a different route than the one we're travelling by. Just as I go to uncover my mouth to speak to Ray, I spot something that grabs my attention.

It's the outline shadow of a person.

"Kelvin!" I instantly cry out, pulling the jacket from my face. I turn and begin sprinting towards the shadow, but a firm hand catches my arm and pulls me back.

Ray clutches onto my lower arm and holds me still. "No, Brooklyn, it might not be him."

"But it is!" I insist. "I can tell by the shadow, it's definitely Kelvin!"

"Even if it is, you can't go after him." Ray tells me.

"Why not?!" I demand, yanking on my arm to try and free it.

"Because it's too dangerous." He answers. "Can you not see the fire travelling towards him?"

I look over and my eyes catch sight of deadly looking flames leaping towards the building Kelvin has just disappeared into.

"But we have to help him!" I say, pulling my arm finally out of Ray's strong grip.

I start sprinting away before he can stop me. But I still hear his yells.

"Brooklyn! Don't do this!" He calls after me. "You could-"

I miss his last words because I'm too far way to hear. I'm sure he's going to run after me, but I've already had a headstart so by the time he catches up, I'll be with Kelvin.

Skidding to a halt as I stop in front of the building Kelvin wandered in to, I look up at the black smoke that rises from the roof. The fire must have already hit, as the smoke isn't that colour anywhere beyond.

Edging towards the doorway, I peer inside at the fiery inferno. The inside of the building is a mix of bright orange and swirling black and I can just make out the silhouette of a body lying on the floor.

"Kelvin!" I call out, coughing as I do so.

I clasp my hand over my nose and mouth as I do the stupid thing and walk into the building.

The first thing I notice is the heat. It's beyond any heat I've felt before and I'm worried that I'll melt or something. Surely there is a limit to the heat humans can stand? Well if there is, this heat must be pretty close.

Aside from the heat, there is the smoke. It's not quite as suffocating as the smoke outside, but it's bitter smell and taste is worse. It dries out the back of my throat, causing my tongue to feel like sandpaper that scrapes against the roof of my mouth. I cough into my hand and carry on.

I'm so close to Kelvin's collapsed body and as his shadow becomes a clearer image, my heart skips a beat. No, two.

I don't know whether to be pleased that it is Kelvin. I'm happy because I know I've found him and that he's not wandering around nowhere. But I'm also devastated at the position he's in. He's lying on his side, his eyelids shut and his body is barely moving. I can't even tell if he's breathing or not, which sends a rush of terror through me. No. He can't be dead. He can't, there hasn't been a canon yet. So there's still time.

I fall to my knees and shake his body gently with my hand. He doesn't stir.

"Brooklyn!" My head snaps round to see Ray walking towards me, his face painted with worry.

"Ray!" I call out croakily and beckon him over. "I need your help, Kelvin's unconscious!"

Ray's face looks shocked, but he doesn't let it faze him as he advances towards me. As he comes beside me, he too gets on his knees.

"Is he breathing?" Ray asks me.

I shrug. "I don't know. I don't think so..."

"Right, we need to get him out of here." Ray shuffles his hands under Kelvin's shoulders and points towards his feet. "You take his legs and we'll haul him out together."

Nodding, I quickly scuttle to the bottom end of Kelvin and grab under his legs. With his body limp, he weighs a lot more than I expected and I struggle to keep hold of his weight like Ray does.

"On three we'll lift him." Ray says loudly over the crackling of the fire.

"One." I grip tighter.

"Two." I tense my muscles.

"Three." I hold my breath as we stand. My legs quake under the weight and I'm afraid I'll crumble to the ground. But I don't. Thankfully.

Ray guides us out, walking with heavy feet as we carry Kelvin between us. We emerge out of the building via a back door and burst into the open air. The smoke is still around us, threatening and looming, so Ray gestures for us to keep walking.

My arms ache with strain, but I hold on. We walk a little further until we're out of reach from the smoke and I let my breath go as we place, well sort of drop, Kelvin on the ground.

With my heart pounding like fists, I rush over to Kelvin's side. His face is blackened from the smoke and I run my finger along his skin, wiping it off. Even though he's coated in soot and dust, he looks peaceful and content. His usual tense face is relaxed, his muscles all released and his expression blank. It's the not the Kelvin I'm used to seeing. Yet he looks even more beautiful than ever before.

My hand moves to hover above his nose. I feel no breaths.

I turn to panic mode. "Ray, why isn't he breathing?"

Ray comes over. "We should open his airways."

I watch as Ray tilts Kelvin's head backwards and opens his mouth a little. I half expect Kelvin to start coughing, but he stays silent and still.

"Ray, what's wrong?" I say, sounding desperate.

Ray's hand rests on top of Kelvin's chest. He pauses for a moment, then removes it and looks solemnly to me. He shakes his head slowly. Too slowly.

"No." Is all I say.

Pushing Ray out of the way, I lean over Kelvin. His face is still. Too still. And his chest doesn't rise and fall. "No. He..."

I hear the sound of a canon firing and that's when it all comes out. Floods of tears, screaming, fists punching the ground.

"NO! NO! NO!" I scream over and over again. Ray attempts to comfort me by offering a shoulder to cry on, but I push him back with such a force that he topples onto his back.

But Ray gets up and risks coming over to me. This time. I let him, for I'm done with anger now. All I have left is depression, and plenty of it.

"It's ok, Brooklyn." Ray says softly to me. "He's ok now, he's safe. He feels no more pain."

"But he's gone..." I sob.

"And we can remember him for what he did. We can remember him for the great leader he was." I can't even tell if Ray is even speaking the truth, but I honestly don't give one. He could tell me that Kelvin is off riding flying ponies in the clouds and eating rainbows, and I'd probably believe him. Because all I need now is anything but the truth.

"I know he was a jerk..." I sniff. "But I...I didn't hate him. I never did. I know I said it hated him, but I didn't, Ray, I didn't hate him at all."

"I know you didn't." Ray says. "None of us did."

* * *

**A/N- Phew. Ok, that was quite long... But, you all like long chapters, right? Anyways, it was a pretty important chapter, so every single word was needed! **

**Ahh, two deaths! Not one, but _two_ in _one_ chapter! How do you feel about _that_, eh? I hope it was dramatic enough for you all, I felt pretty intense writing it, so I hope it drew you in. Anyways, so what do you think about poor Phosphorus and Kelvin? Did either of their deaths surprise you?  
So let's discuss little Phos, then. He was so cute (in my opinion) and it was really sad to let him go, I started to get rather attached to him... but I suppose I'm very close to all of them. I feel like they're my own sort of, like I've adopted them from you submitters. Well, yes, it was very hard to say goodbye to our sweet, but cheeky, District Seven cutie...I wonder what will happen to Layla without him?  
And now, Kelvin. The big, tough guy leader. Did you expect him to get a little further? Well he probably could have, possible even the final few... but I like to jazz things up a little. It makes life a little more exciting and it shows that it's not always the physically strong people that survive longer... but wher will this leave Brooklyn and the other Careers? And with the leader gone, who will take control?**

**ALL SHALL BE REVEALED AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE. So yeah, next chapter will be up much quicker as it will be an outside chapter, I think. So yes, until then...adios!**

**Keep reviewing please! I'm aiming to get to 111 reviews! And surely, there is something worth commenting on about this chapter? Even just a small sentence. It can go a long way...**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

**Oh, and two more things... Firstly, for those who have read (or going to read) my latest story 'Unscripted Fate', I am currently in the middle of chapter two, so it will be updated soon! Yes, I am continuing it. It has been confirmed.**

**And secondly, just to tease you guys, I have finally decided on the Victor for this game! Woop woop. But no, I will not tell you, nor give away any clues. I just wanted to say that. Bye.**


	28. Outsiders: Filling in the Pieces

**A/N- Bonjour! Hola! Hallo! Howdy! Yes, I am feeling multicultural at this moment... Right, to get on with things... If you still haven't gotten over the last chapter (with a double dose of deaths!), then I have good news and bad news. Good news is that this is an outside chapter. And bad news is that this is an outside chapter. Yes, it says the same thing. But it depends on how you interpret it. If you need a relaxing chapter to calm you after the dramatics of the last, then this is that. But if you start hysterically crying at the mentioning of Kelvin and Phosphorus' deaths (very unlikely) then I apoligise now. Sorry.**

* * *

Kaitlyn (Kelvin's friend/ex-girlfriend) POV

The doorbell rings before I have even had chance to finish brushing my hair. Turning, I glance up at the silver framed clock and roll my eyes. It's quarter to three, 2:45pm. They're early. Too early. Sighing, I get up from sitting on the dainty chair in front of my white dressing table and walk out the room.

As I'm strolling down the stairs, the doorbell begins ringing impatiently. One high-pitched note playing over and over again, nagging me like a child wanting to play outside after tea.

"Shut up, I'm here!" I shout to the door. The bell rings once more, a sly action to annoy me, then stops, but a faint ringing sound can still be heard at the back of my mind.

Still with a hairbrush plunged into my long hair, I open the door one-handed and frown at the two boys that wait on the porch. It's Marvin and Leo, two of the foursome I'm part of.

"Guys, you're early." I moan, stepping aside to let them in. They both come inside, Leo first, then Marvin.

"Well we thought that since you were a status higher than everyone else invited-" Leo begins.

"And what status would that be?" I question him daringly.

" 'Close friend' status." Leo answers. "Everyone else is either 'casual friend', 'friendly acquaintance' or 'random crasher'."

"Right... because you're obviously so popular that you have to divide people into categories to get around them all..." I say sarcastically. Leo scowls at me. Marvin laughs.

"Ahem, back to what I was saying." Leo gives a sharp cough. "Anyways, since you're at 'close friend' status, Marvin and myself thought that you should be there first, before the rest of them all arrive."

"Oh, I feel honoured." I say, clearly I don't mean it. Leo picks up on it and gives me yet another scowl.

"Well if you're not interested...then I guess I could demote you to 'casual friend' status. That is always an option." He says, as if it was a kind of punishment or something tragic.

Instead of reeling off another sarcastic reply to wind him up, I simply roll my eyes. "Let me finish my hair and I'll be with you. Two minutes."

"Which means half an hour!" Marvin calls up the stairs after me.

"Well at least I have something to show for it!" I shout back and close the bedroom door behind me.

Collapsing myself down on my chair, which creaks under the sudden pressure, I stare at the mirror and yank my hairbrush down my locks. Surprisingly, there aren't as many knots as I'd expected; that new shampoo must have really worked. Almost effortlessly, I comb through my hair until it shimmers like thousands of tiny crystals, then spray on some perfume and run out the room, grabbing my lip-gloss on the way.

The boys are still waiting at the door by the time I get down and as soon as my foot leaves the bottom stair, they're out of the door in a flash. They didn't even compliment how lovely I look. Pfft, boys.

After locking the door, as my parents are out and have trusted me with the safety of the house (usually a big mistake), I catch up with Marvin and Leo, who are already speedily walking down the road.

"Don't wait for me then." I huff, slotting myself between them.

"We did." Leo replies. "We just walk faster than you."

"Keep on walking like this and Marvin will have a heart attack." I smirk.

"Hey, stop making fat jokes about me, it's not nice." Marvin whines. "I'm not fat, it's-"

"All muscle." Leo and I chorus together. We've heard the phrase spoken so often that it's becoming Marvin's catchphrase and I swear I must be saying it in my sleep.

Marvin hunches his shoulders and walks ahead, but he's not really that bothered. He's way used to it now, we make a fat comment almost every day. Besides, if it affected him that much, then he'd go lose some weight.

Leo only lives down the street next to mine, so we're there in five minutes. We walk up the path and I step aside to let Leo unlock the door.

"Dad's out so we can do whatever, as long as it's clean enough when he gets back tonight." Leo tells us, going inside and holding the door for me. I take the door and step inside, holding it then for Marvin.

Once we're all inside, Leo ushers us into the lounge. Almost pasted on the wall is a screen showing the Hunger Games. Nothing interesting is really happening at the moment, just flicking between different people and alliances. I turn my attention to the rest of the room.

"Ok, so d'you reckon there's enough snacks?" Leo asks our opinion.

"It depends on whether you're talking about enough for the average group of teens, or a group of people like Marv." I joke.

Marvin drops this comment and just falls back on a couch.

"Yeah, it's plenty." I quickly answer truthfully. "It's the middle of the afternoon, people won't have long had their lunch."

Leo nods. "Right, so all we need now is to wait for the other people to arrive."

I take this as a favourable opportunity to grab a seat before half the district arrive. Leo has decided to play host and hold a house party at his because he wants to 'widen his social life'. In other words, he has decided that me and Marvin aren't enough for mates and that he wants to be a popular kid. Personally, I'm quite shocked that people are actually coming to the party, not many people really know Leo. I bet it's for the free food and a chance to get it on with each other. Hurrah. But it will be pretty hilarious to watch Leo try to be cool.

A knock at the door tells us that the first guests have arrived. People will come in small groups, they tend to avoid being loners.

I let Leo get the door and a few seconds later, a group of seven girls enter the lounge, all giggling and being extremely annoying.

"Omigosh, are we like the first ones here?" One of them asks Leo. He nods, his face a cute shade of pink. You can tell he hasn't mastered the art of acting normal around girls.

"Well if you ladies would like to take a seat..." Leo gestures around the room. "Refreshments are on the table and just get comfortable while everyone else arrives."

The girls, some still giggling, all squash up on one sofa. I go to raise an eyebrow to Marvin, but he's too busy ogling the girls, probably staring at the girl with dark curly hair who is sitting with her skirt bunched most of the way up her thigh, showing off a lot of pale flesh. Too much pale flesh and I find myself pulling down my own skirt.

Soon enough, the door is knocked again and it's not long before the lounge is bursting with teenagers, all talking at the same time and killing my hearing. I try standing up, but am pushed down again by someone walking past and not paying attention. I go to yell at him, but he's already gone and he wouldn't hear me anyway.

Sighing, I go to stand again and this time I'm successful. But getting from one side of the room to the other proves more difficult that I thought. I have to duck under raised arms with hands clutching plastic cups filled with whatever they're filled with; I have to squeeze through clusters of chatting girls and awkwardly step around the pairs of people making out like they're on drugs or something. Really, it's just gross.

"Get a room." I snarl down at a couple, but they don't hear me. Or they ignored me...

"Excuse me." I shove past another group of gossiping people and receive a few glares and the occasional middle finger as my elbow ploughs through them. I'm beginning to think that this party was a bad idea.

Eventually, I reach Leo. He's perched on the arm of a sofa, busy nattering away to a girl who clearly isn't interested in a thing he's saying, but is obviously after something more. But Leo, being Leo, doesn't notice the clear flirting or the wild fluttering of eyelashes.

"Psst, Leo." I prod his shoulder.

"Shh, Kaitlyn." He shrugs me off. "I'm kinda in the middle of something here."

"You're telling her about your family history, Leo. And frankly, she doesn't give a shit. So if you would just listen to me for a second..."

"One minute, Kaitlyn. I said I'm busy." He's clearly trying to show off in front of the girl. "Go find some random dude to snog the face off or something."

Outraged by his rude comment, I shove him hard. He loses his balance and topples off the arm, landing with a thud on the flat carpet.

"Kaitlyn, why did you-"

"OH MY GOD GUYS, LOOK AT KELVIN!" A sudden yell comes from somewhere in the cramped room, I'm not sure where, but it grabs my attention, as well as the attention of everyone else in the room, excluding the couple on the floor who should _not _be doing that in public...

About fifty heads all turn to face the screen on the wall. The room falls silent as we watch.

I stare in horror, my jaw dropped, as the camera focuses on Kelvin, curled up in a corner in the middle of a burning building. It's horrid, something I never thought I'd see. He looks helpless, like he's given up. But he's Kelvin, he's not supposed to give up. He's a Galloway, he's meant to become Victor like the billions of others before him (exaggeration, his family history isn't _that _long). He's supposed to win this thing and come home. We're supposed to be celebrate his victory. We're supposed to get back together...

I wonder if he's thinking of me...

"Oh look, it's that Brooklyn girl! I think she's coming to rescue him everybody!" Someone shouts from the room, informing us with a dash of hope for our old friend.

At hearing the name 'Brooklyn' my stomach twists. I've seen her all over Kelvin; the way she endlessly flirts and messes him about. And when she kissed him... ugh, I can't even believe he kissed her back. What does he see in her? Probably nothing, he's just after the camera attention, that's all. Yes, it's really me he's in love with. He never stopped loving me, just as I never stopped loving him. Yes, of course, that's it. But even so, I still feel the sharpened knife of jealousy stabbed through my ribs, cutting into my heart. And Brooklyn is turning it.

Everyone in the room has fallen silent once more, all eyes focused on the screen. Kelvin's other ally, Ray, has joined and him and Brooklyn are carrying Kelvin out of the burning building. Smoke coats the air so much that I almost feel like coughing, despite the fact that it's on TV and not really here. But it looks so real that I feel I'm in there with him, stroking his face and telling him that everything will be ok.

But it won't, will it?

Now, Kelvin has been laid on his back. They're checking his breathing, but Brooklyn's face looks distraught. He isn't breathing.

My head falls into my waiting palms and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the canon. It comes, after about a minute and my palms begin to dampen, soaked with my salty tears. I feel an arm being wrapped around my shoulders; I can tell straight away from the size that it's Marvin. Weeping, I lean into his cushioned shoulder and let my tears drench his oversized t-shirt.

Phosphorus' Father POV

I'm jolted awake from my scattered sleep by the sudden weight that had been thrust on to me. I open my eyes with a startled gasp and let out a sigh of relief as I see that it isn't an ambush, just the dog.

"Saxon..." I grumble, sitting up. In reply, Saxon starts to bark excitedly and begins to lick my face with an oversized tongue, wiping away the remnants of my sleep.

"Oh Saxon, will you stop that." I push his damp muzzle from my face and swing my legs out of bed. My feet find their tattered slippers, partially destroyed from Saxon's chomping teeth, and as I stand, the room spins. I clutch my head to stop the dizziness and wait for a few moments until I feel stable.

Hearing padded paw-steps on the wooden floor, I look down at my feet to an anxious looking Saxon. His dark eyes are wide, searching mine.

"I'm fine, Saxon." I tell him, then look for my clock. I find it and check the time. I groan. "Ugh, it's only six in the morning. Still, I suppose this is the time Phosphorus used to get up to walk you, right?" I swear, Saxon nods, but I put it down to my headache and push the thought aside. Dogs can't nod in reply, of course.

"Come on then." I beckon Saxon as I walk out the room. The house only has one floor, so I have no stairs to tackle; a good thing when I wake up with a headache, which is pretty much every day.

Saxon's uneven nails scratch the dying wooden planks as we walk into the main room. The kitchen, dining area and lounge is all in one, fairly small, room. Going to the back of the room, the designated kitchen space, I open one of the two cupboards, cautious as not to pull off the broken handle. My eyes lazily scan over its scarce contents and I eventually reach out for the pot of tea leaves. Behind me, Saxon whimpers softly at the fireplace and its pile of dry wood.

"No Saxon, we're going out soon, you can have the fire on later." I say to him. He looks disappointed, but understanding at the same time.

Going back to making tea, I slide a chipped mug across the counter and open the pot. As I remove the old and stained lid, my heart sinks. The pot is bare; completely empty apart from tiny flakes and pockets of dust from the tea leaves that were once in there. Fantastic, just bloody fantastic.

Slamming the lid back on and causing another lovely crack in the pottery, I shove the pot back in the cupboard and shut the door with a satisfying crash. Behind me, I hear Saxon yelp quietly in surprise.

"Right, come on then Sax." I say encouragingly. "Let's take you out on that walk then."

At the word 'walk', Saxon's ears prick up and he leaps up to his feet. For quite an old dog, he still has a lot of excitement and energy inside him, like he has never grown from that tiny little puppy I gave to my son all those years ago.

I remember that day so clearly, the vivid memory one that I'll never forget. It was a dreary day; one of the ones where the sky is nothing but a thick duvet of dark grey and there's that constant light, but drenching, rain. The roof had been leaking that season, a small gash in the thin material that allowed drips of rain to fall in and create small ponds on the floor. It wasn't a good time either; the rainy season meant that illnesses were spreading from house to house as quick as a forest fire.

Phosphorus was barely two years old and his mother, my wife, as restless. And with my job earning such a low wage, I couldn't afford to buy the materials to fix the leaking roof. I was a father in despair; worrying about the health of my family and hating myself for the little I could do.

So, one that one particularly damp day, as I was trudging through the swamped streets, my worn boots soaking up every ounce of puddle water, I passed a stack of abandoned wood. I had walked over, both curious and desperate, and examined my findings. It looked unwanted and I thought I could take some to repair the roof. No-one seemed to want it and I supposed no-one would notice its absence. So I went and took a plank. I remember it was heavy and sodden with stale water, but when I at last pulled it free, something else came out too.

It was a tiny puppy, its long fur all soaked through and coated in mud. The puppy's huge, innocent eyes followed my every move as I took the plank of wood. It had stared at me with longing and a need to be loved. And I took pity on the creature.

So when I arrived home, drenched to the skin, I had not only the piece to fix our broken roof, but also the piece to fix our broken smiles.

My wife wasn't too keen on the idea when she saw the puppy padding along the wooden floor. In fact, she yelled at my stupidity; told me I was meant to help us, not add another problem to deal with. She saw the puppy as a burden, but little Phosphorus saw it as a gift from the heavens. At the sight of the wet puppy, he had crawled with anticipation over to it, his skinny limbs wobbling as he crawled. When he faced the puppy, he had simply smiled and threw his short arms around its dripping body. My wife protested at first, but after seeing the joy on our son's face, she sighed and said the dog's feet were dirty and he needed to put some socks on. Phosphorus had giggled and copied his mother's words, but pronounced them as "Sacks un!", which later became the name Saxon.

Over at the front door, I turn the rusted handle and pull it towards me. At once, the cool air of a summer morning rushes in and swamps the inside of the house. It smells fresh and like the white flowers that you sometimes find hiding amongst the trees in the wood.

I go to grab my jacket, but then my hand hesitates and I decide against it. It's summer, who needs a jacket? Behind me, I hear the scratching of Saxon's nails on the hard floor, an annoying sound, but one I'm used to nonetheless. And right now, I need some familiarity.

"C'mon then, let's take you out." I say to Saxon and hold the door for him to run out. He doesn't need further instructions, as he bounds out with neither a hesitation nor a backwards glance. I follow him out.

The sun's light hits my eyes forcefully, causing me to squint to save my sight. Breathing in deeply, I let the crisp morning air flood my lungs; something I haven't done for years. Thinking about it, I've barely stepped outside the house besides going to work. I tend to find the shadows of my little house more inviting than the brightness of the outside district. Inside I can hide away from everyone else and avoid the stares of local people, their eyes judging me. I can almost hear them muttering under their breaths to each other now, whispering about my past and all that. After my wife was arrested, well it actually wasn't a real arrest; she was having an affair with a peacekeeper and because he was such a spineless coward, he arrested her for some made up reason so that the truth wouldn't come out about his rendezvous with my wife. Some people believed him, others claimed they noticed the odd behaviour between the two. Anyway, so after she left, I fell into a downwards spiral and am still falling today, never once tried to climb back up.

Saxon, who has run quite far ahead, makes a sharp turn and a dash for the forest beside. Cursing under my breath, I start to chase after him, not wanting to spend more time than I have to outside. It's a Sunday, so not many people are working, lucky for me. I could do without being questioned.

"Saxon!" I call out into the wood, my feet standing just behind the border between the trees and the street. He doesn't answer, but a rustling in some bushes gives away his position.

Giving in, I step into the world of the wood and almost instantly, the air feels cooler and darker. I advance forwards, following the scuffed tracks that line Saxon's path. The trees get closer together, the bushes thicker. I realise that I've never been in this part of the forest before; I tend to stick wherever the work is and I'm not one to go off on a random treck. In fact, it looks as if hardly anyone had been here. It's almost...untouched.

Just in time, I bow my head to avoid smacking it against a low branch, but end up getting my cheek scratched by another. I reach my hand to my face and wipe away the tiny specks of blood.

"Saxon, where are you, you damn blasted dog?" I say out loud to the woods around me. I've lost his trail and am now walking aimlessly around unknown territory. I look behind me, but the trees seem to have patched together and show no sign of the way I came. I have to keep looking for that stupid dog, he's probably my only chance of getting out here before evening.

Even though it's early in the morning, my guess is around seven am, the sky feels darker, blanketed off by the thick tops of trees. I feel a slight chill pass down my spine and push aside a bunch of hanging leaves.

"Saxon!" I try again. "Saxon, come here boy!"

Movement catches my eye, somewhere over to the left. I immediately change direction, heading towards the shaking bushes. "Saxon, is that you?"

Using my weathered hands to open a gap in the bush, I peer inside. I almost gasp at what I see. It's like a secret path behind, sealed by this large bush and hidden from sight. I spot Saxon further down, his back turned to me and his tail wagging from side to side. Ducking as low as I can, I push myself through the plants and wince as tiny scratches slice my skin. All the while, I keep my eyes firmly on Saxon. I am not losing him this time.

When I eventually plough through the bush and come out the other side, I breathe a sigh of relief. But my relief is soon replaced by wonder at my surroundings. I'm standing in a sort of cave, except it's not made of the usual rock, but of bushes and trees instead.

Saxon, sensing my presence, turns around and bounds towards me. He barks gleefully at my feet and tugs sharply on the bottom of my trousers. I let him lead me to a pile of dug-up soil and as we stop before it, he barks at the newly dug hole. Crouching to his level, I look into the hole and see something staring up at me. I feel a small tear pricking at my eye as I lift out the crossbow.

It feels warm in my hand, I know it's because the ground has insulated it, but I pretend it's because it as recently been held by another person. That person being Phosphorus. I know it belongs to him, not just by looking at the carved initials of PV on the side, but by another sense. I can simply sense that Phosphorus was the one who built it, who spent hours carving each gentle stroke of wood until it was as smooth as a baby's skin. I know it was him who took the care in finding the perfect place to hide it and kept it a secret from all but himself and his dog. And I know it is him who is looking down on me right now, holding his life's secret.

I turn my gaze to the above and my eyes find a gap in the leaves so that they look upon the unclouded sky. Holding the crossbow close to my chest, I close my eyelids shut, let a single tear fall down my cheek and whisper, "I'll take care of them for you, my son. Just like you took care of me."

* * *

**A/N- Aww, so sad :( I cannot express to you how difficult it can be to get into the minds of these outside characters sometimes. I mean, I barely have a sentence or two about them, so it can be hard to understand them like I can for the tributes. So I am sorry if my portrayals aren't exactly what the submitters intended... but still, I haven't done a horrible mess of any, have I?**

**Well, I'm going to keep this note short (OMGALE, seriously? Wow... shock horror..) Yeah, excuse my sarcasm to myself... Anyways, so blah blah blah, keep reading and reviewing and all that. Yes, I need your support blah blah, murder you in the night, blah blah, is that cheesecake? blah blah... **

**Right, next chapter will be up when it's up. So whenever that will be in the next ten days or whatever, I shall see you then! **

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

**Ok... no, that wasn't cheesecake. I was hallucinating. :(**


	29. Ashes and Embers

**A/N- Hello again everyone! I am sorry for the late update, almost two weeks... Well I've had problem with stuff at home so I had no heating for a few days, so I had to stay over at my grandparents house, which meant that I couldn't write enough... Oh well, it's sorted now and I made myself sit down and finish the chapter as soon as I got home...and now here it is! I hope you like it x**

* * *

Heidi Fitzherbit, District 12 POV

Luna and Zephyr have gone. Gone. _Gone. _Not a sign, not a trace. I even discovered that their supplies have gone as well; everything that belonged (well as close as something can belong to a person in the arena) to Luna has disappeared along with herself. Her small bag, the one she got at the bloodbath, gone. The materials she uses to build her snares, gone. Everything has just...gone.

And that's not all. Zephyr's stuff has gone as well. His bag that we found him with, the one he had before he joined the alliance, that as also vanished. It's as if neither of them were ever here; they would certainly make good criminals, they've left no evidence or trail behind. It's so...weird.

"I'm sure they just went out for some early hunting." Guthrie had suggested first this morning when we first noticed their absence. Rhea and I had agreed with him, it seemed the most logical explanation at the time. But now, almost twelve hours later, they still haven't arrived back? It doesn't take _that _long to kill a few animals and bring them back. No, there's something else.

There must be.

Maybe one of them got hurt...? In fact, we did hear two canons earlier today. When I heard the first one, I completely freaked. I had convinced myself that it was either Luna or Zephyr who had just died, I was convinced of it. Guthrie and Rhea both tried to assure me that it wasn't them; Guthrie said he could feel that they were both alive and that it was someone else. It took me a while to believe it, but once I had calmed down, I started to think that maybe it was someone else. Hopefully, it was a Career and that one of the lethal killing machines was dead. Hopefully. But as always, there is that little hint of doubt.

The door opens and Rhea walks in. By the look on her face, I can tell that she hasn't had any luck and as I go to ask, she just shakes her head.

"How far did you look?" I ask instead.

"Not too far," She replies. "just all around the house and stuff. But I couldn't find any footprints or anything. The ground is too dry and solid to leave any marks behind."

"Maybe we should check the fence again." I suggest. "We might have missed something. Maybe if we look again..."

"No, Heidi. There's no point." Rhea says. "We've searched everywhere we can; there's nothing. Luna and Zephyr are gone."

"But not dead." Guthrie quickly adds positively.

I look to him. "But you don't know that for sure, do you? You're just saying that to make me feel better and to stop me from worrying. But it's not going to work, ok? I know one hundred percent that two people died today, and those two people could have easily been Luna or Zephyr."

"I doubt it..." Guthrie says. "I mean, there are what, twelve or so other people it could have been? Just because they're not here, doesn't make them dead."

"Yeah, well if they were alive then why aren't they here?" I challenge. But Guthrie doesn't answer, he can't. None of us can. The question is unanswerable right now and until we find some evidence, we can't make any judgements. All we can do is guess and hope.

Hope that they're out there...somewhere.

"Here, Heidi." Guthrie beckons me over. "Come and have a drink, you look dehydrated."

Sighing at my realised thirst and dry throat, I crawl over beside Guthrie and take the offering. The water is warm and tastes stale, but I guzzle a few mouthfuls down anyway. It manages to soothe my throat a little, despite the foul taste.

"That better?" Guthrie asks, screwing the lid back on the flask. I nod.

"How's your arm?" I ask him.

"Quite good actually." He says, pulling up his sleeve so that the top of his arm and shoulder is bare. "Look."

I do and smile in both surprise and relief. His arm looks half the size it was before, all the swelling has seeped down to the normal size of his bicep. The wound that once stretched to about seven inches has shrunk to only two and the skin has sealed itself over. It looks like just an old scar.

"Wow, that medicine did great." I say, smiling at him. He grins back and pulls down his sleeve, the wound slipping behind the black material and disappearing from sight.

A sudden gasp from Rhea startles us both and our heads quickly snap over to her direction. Her back is bent, her body bowed over and her eyes staring at the floor space where I was just sitting.

"Oh my god, what is it Rhea?" I ask, feeling rather anxious. "I haven't sat in something, have I? Oh my god no, I didn't sit on a knife did I?" I roll onto one leg and start flapping around, trying to check if I have a hole in my trousers where my bottom is. I see nothing.

"Ok, panic over." I say. "I haven't got a hole in my trousers."

"Well no..." Rhea says. "But maybe you should be looking at the floor rather than your ass. This is kinda important."

I look to the floor I'm sitting on.

"The floor over here, you idiot." Rhea snaps. "What do you think I'm staring at?!"

Flustered a little from embarrassment at my stupid 'blonde' moment...(ok, actually my hair is mousey brown and not blonde...oh well, I have the brains of a dizzy blonde), I quickly scuttle over to where Rhea is standing. Guthrie follows behind.

"Look what you were sitting on, Heidi." Rhea points down the floor. "You were hiding our evidence."

Frowning, I lean over and spot some sort of markings on the stoned floor. I tilt my head, getting a better angle, and then realise that the markings are really words. They've been like scratched into the grey stone with something like the sharp point of a knife.

I read the words inscribed.

_H, R, G. _It takes me a moment of confusion to finally realise that those letters stand for our names. Feeling a little stupid, again, I continue reading the scrawled writing.

_we have left alliance. want to be together for the end. nothing against you. thank you. sorry. L and Z._

I stare in disbelief at the message. The words stare back at me, like daggers in my eyes. I stare at them until my eyes begin to sting and water. I'm not sure what or how to feel right now. Everything seems to have happened so quickly. Today, all we wanted was evidence and now that we have it, I'm not sure how to react to it. Should I be angry, upset, happy? I don't know, I honestly do not know.

"I don't understand." Guthrie is the first to speak. "What do they mean, _'want to be together for the end'_? Are they like, together? As in, a couple or something?"

Rhea and I look to each other, thinking the same thing.

"Well, possibly?" I answer. "When they met in training they seemed to like each other and stuff...then when Zephyr joined us, him and Luna seemed to get on...well."

"So did something happen between them?"

"Um...well I haven't seen anything." I say. "Maybe they like kissed or something when no-one was looking?"

"Ugh, well in my opinion, I think the arena is no place for a romance." Rhea says, and I realise that she is standing halfway across the room, her arms folded across her chest. "People die in here. Only one person lives, so why would you get into a relationship? I mean, if one of you for some lucky reason survived, the other would be dead anyway. So what's the point?"

"Maybe that's why they want to be together?" I suggest. "Maybe the fact that they're not going to live long is why they're doing it. They could want to spend the last parts of their lives happy together, isn't that a good reason?"

Rhea shrugs. "They can do whatever they want. I'm just saying that I think it's a bad idea, that's all."

"I don't." Guthrie suddenly says. "I agree with Heidi; I think they should try and make their lives as happy as they can before they're...you know."

I flash him a smile. I like to be backed up. It makes my opinion seems stronger.

"Well I hope they're very happy together." Rhea says dryly. "I hope they're out partying while we sit here thinking that we're not good enough for them."

Rhea's comment surprises me. "I'm sure they didn't think that we weren't good enough. They just wanted to be alone, that's all."

"Oh believe what you want, Heidi." Rhea says back. "I know you only want to see the good in people, but sometimes, especially in the games, people turn out to be differently than you expected."

I stare at her, my eyes unmoving. I feel a stab of painful hurt in my chest. Rhea has never spoken like that before; sure, she can be blunt sometimes, but never like that. Never. It's like she has changed into a new person after the exit of Zephyr and Luna. Maybe she feels betrayed? I know I should probably feel some annoyance towards them, for how they just left us like that, but I can't. All I see is that they're in love (or close to it) and they just want to be alone together while they still can. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?

Or maybe Rhea' right. Maybe I'm just an optimist. A fool. Maybe I'm so blinded by trying to find the good in people that I miss what's really there.

I'm just too naive for my own good, my brother used to say. I just wish he was here to tell me that himself.

Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV

The clash of a dream and reality is a strange feeling. It's at those precise few moments when you're neither awake nor asleep; hovering between two worlds. It's a hazy sort of sensation, like you're not really there, but are still present. Like you're mind has been lifted from your body and left to roam the space between nothing and everything. You can't get to grips on what you're thinking; in fact, you're not really thinking at all. Just thoughts that haven't been thought. Silhouettes of thoughts really, that's probably the easiest way I can explain them. The outline is there, so you know the thought is there, but you just haven't got the inside filling. As I said before, it's a strange feeling. Maybe one that words can not explain.

After floating between the form of sleeping and being awake, my mind slowly comes into place within my head and I drift back into the reality I left behind when I fell asleep. Speaking of falling asleep, I'm not even sure when I drifted off. I'm pretty sure it was still day; I never sleep in the day. Never. I'm always making the most of the light hours before all goes dark and shadowed. I have always refused to sleep until the last light of the sun has gone out, yet I know that is not the case now.

With my eyes open, I can see a streak of golden light pouring through the crack in the ceiling. It's tinted with a burnt orange that is only seen during late afternoons or early evenings. And I certainly haven't been asleep all through yesterday, the night and most of the day; definitely not. No, I must have fallen asleep earlier today. Peculiar as it may seem to me, it is the only explanation deemed suitable.

Shuffling my body, ready to sit up, I'm stopped by a realisation. I feel something warm and comforting seeping through my shirt and onto my skin. It feels right, so right and I awkwardly tilt my head to look down at my torso. There, I see a head of pale blonde curls resting dreamily against my rising and falling chest. It's Luna; and her arm is sprawled out across my torso, still, but gradually moving up and down gently as I breathe in and out. I smile and push a stray curl of soft hair from my neck, shivering lightly as it tickles my skin.

The movement causes a stir from the previously sleeping Luna, a soft moan escaping her lips as her head turns on my chest. Slowly, she lifts her head and looks at me sleepily. Her eyes are damp from the sleep and her cheeks are tinted a pale shade of pink. Her blonde hair, almost like a halo around her head, frames her warm smile she shows to me. I smile back and push some hair behind her ear.

"Sleep well?" I ask her gently.

She nods. "How long were we out?"

I shrug. "A few hours maybe. I wasn't even aware that we fell asleep in the first place; it was the middle of the day."

"Well we had been awake all night, remember? We must have fallen asleep from exhaustion and lack of rest." Luna suggests sensibly.

"Or..." I offer up another suggestion. "...maybe I drifted off because you were boring me?"

This earns me a slap on the cheek. Not a hard, angry slap, but a soft, joking slap. As I rub my cheek, pretending to be in agony, Luna pouts at me and sits up properly, without using my body as a couch.

"You're so mean to me sometimes." Luna says, sticking out her bottom lip.

I smirk. "But you still love me right?" I surprise her by grabbing her arms and pulling her towards me sharply. With the sudden responsibility of holding her weight, which isn't really a lot at all, I lose my teetering balance and topple backwards, landing with my back flat on the floor and Luna squashed on top of me.

Luna looks down at me with her large brown eyes that caught me all that time ago in training and I find myself bringing her face close down to mine. My lips meet hers softly and I plant a careful kiss, before rolling over on the floor and letting her fall behind me.

"Hey! Don't roll over like that, I almost whacked my forehead on the floor!" Luna exclaims.

"Lucky you didn't, otherwise you may have lost your memory and started trying to kill me for kidnapping you." I say.

"You did kidnap me."

"It isn't kidnap if you come willingly." I point out smartly and Luna just tries me with a testing eyebrow raise.

Using my elbows to haul me along, I drag myself along the stoned floor towards Luna. She sits, her legs neatly folded beneath her bottom and her hands resting in her lap. Her hair falls tiredly, but still ever so neat baring in mind the conditions here, and sits comfortably at her shoulders.

From floor height, I look up to her like she's an angel. My eyes read her face and I can see something is on her mind, beside her near 'memory loss' incident.

"What is it?" I ask her straight. "And don't say '_nothing, everything is fine and dandy my little cherub'. _"

"Cherub?" Luna questions my word choice. "Aren't they those naked little chubby angel kids?"

"Erm...maybe..." I suddenly realise that she's caught me off subject...clever girl. But not quite clever enough for the Z-master, yup, new nickname there... "Hey, we're steering off course here. You haven't answered my question yet."

Luna's eyes avert to her lap, where her fingers are neatly knotted together, almost woven together. "Oh, it's noth- I mean, not something worth sharing."

I cough sharply. "No evading the question. Or you shall be greatly punished."

A small smirk grows on Luna's face. "Punished, you say?"

The corners of my lips begin to twitch, eager to turn into a smile, but I tug them down and pin my expression emotionless. I will not succumb this time; no, I will get the answer I'm after whether I end up straining my face muscles by holding back smiles and laughter.

"Ahem, you're still avoiding the question." I remark, trying to sound as stern as I possibly can.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you..." Luna says.

"Coulda fooled me."

"No, seriously Zephyr. I will tell you, but you may think I'm worrying too much." She says and waits for my reply.

"Just tell me, please. I'm sure it's not a disaster, or you would have told me urgently before, right?"

"Right." She nods. "Well, ok. I was just thinking about Heidi and the others..."

_Ok, I can see where this is heading..._

",,,and how much I've been through with them..."

_Yup, she is definitely regretting coming with me. I knew she wanted to stay with her friends; I must have made her feel awkward so she said yes to me because I was there asking, while the others were sleeping._

"It's ok, honestly, it's ok." I say before she can finish, I know what she's going to say anyway. "Coming with me was a big mistake and you want to go back to the others. It's ok, I understand. I put you in a difficult position and you must have felt pressurised-"

"No, Zephyr." Luna's hand rests on my arm. "I chose you because I want to be with you. All I was going to say was that I was worried about what the others think about me after leaving so suddenly."

"Aww, Luna." I pull her body next to mine and give her a quick hug. "You're such a thoughtful person. But I wouldn't worry if I were you, I'm sure the others will be fine."

"Yeah maybe, but I still left without saying goodbye..." She says.

"You left them a note...well, kind of a note. I guess it was more of a scratching in the floor than a note... but still, you didn't just leave without explaining yourself. So you can't blame yourself for that."

Luna sighs and allows her head to fall against my shoulder. She leans into me and I curl some strands of her blonde hair in my fingers, watching them intertwine with each other and create beautiful patterns.

"Do you wish you never left?" I ask her quietly.

"No, yes, I'm not sure?" She answers unsurely. "I mean, I'm glad I left because I'm here with you now. But I still can't stop feeling bad about abandoning them..."

"You hardly abandoned them; I'm sure they'll be fine." I assure her. "Yes, they'll miss you, but they'll certainly be glad that I'm not there cracking bad jokes. I swear, Rhea was so close to slaughtering me on the spot so many times." This earns a soft giggle. "Honestly, Luna, I don't think you need to worry about them. Rhea is strong, both physically and mentally; she knows what she's doing. And Heidi is getting better, she isn't squealing as much anymore. Plus, they have Guthrie now as well; he's recovering very well so I'm sure he can help out too."

"Are you suggesting that I wasn't particularly helpful and that they won't even notice I'm gone?"

"You know I'm not, silly. All I'm saying is that they won't die without you...wait, maybe I shouldn't have said that...sore subject being that we're in the Hunger Games... Ok, rephrase: they won't crumble into fits of uncoping misery without you."

I can sense a smile without even seeing it.

"Whereas myself..." I continue. "I would stop functioning without you."

"Oh, don't be so overdramatic, Zephyr. I'm not that amazing." Luna says.

I roll my eyes. "Hey, here I am trying to pay you a compliment and act all romantic and stuff, but all you do is tell me I'm _overdramatic_. Gee, thanks, nice to know my efforts are appreciated."

Luna elbows my stomach sharply, her pointed bone digging into my torso. I feel a small dart of pain, but nothing much, nothing I'm not used to. I've had quite a lot elbows being shoved into my stomach before, people tend to use it as a way to tell me to stop goofing around.

"You are appreciated, dumbass, otherwise I wouldn't have left with you, would I?" Luna says to me. "And thank you, for your lovely compliment. But for the record, I would be perfectly able to function if you were to suddenly drop dead."

My jaw hangs low and I let out a dramatisised gasp. "I feel so unloved right now. Why are women so cruel sometimes?"

Luna shuffles round so that she no longer leans on me, but faces me entirely. Carefully, she wraps her dainty arms around my neck and holds her lips millimetres from mine.

"It's our way of showing we care about someone." She says in a hushed voice and stops my future sentence with a long, satisfying kiss.

Ren Elmwood, District 1 POV

Two days. That's how long they've been gone. Two whole days...actually, it may even be three days... Either way, it's been too long.

Camp has been...much quieter without Kelvin, Ray and Brooklyn. Certainly a lot calmer too. No arguments, except the occasional jokey wind up between Tal and Bryn, and no bitching between the two girls. It has been quite nice. In fact, that's an understatement: it's been bloody wonderful.

Without neither Kelvin nor Brooklyn to boss me about, I've been free to do my own thing. Which means, no night shifts, no hunting, no collecting water, no little jobs, no nothing. Just me and my surroundings. Of course, I haven't totally slacked off. No, me, Tal and Bryn have been sharing jobs. We have a good system; Tal collects firewood, Bryn hunts and I watch over the supplies while they're gone. And watching over the supplies doesn't take much effort at all. So pretty much all I have been doing is sharpening blades, eating, sleeping and thinking.

I've done a lot of thinking over the past couple of days. I've thought about many things really, like where Kelvin, Ray and Brooklyn are; whether they're alive (there have been three canons since they left) and whether the days are as long in the arena as they are outside in the world of Panem. And currently, I'm undecided.

"Hey, what do you think?" I ask Tal, who is prancing about thrusting his trident around in the air like it's a fencing sword.

He asks, without even looking at me. "Think about what?"

"Whether days are as long in the arena as they are outside." I reply.

"Umm... I dunno." He says without even trying to think properly. He's more interested in showing off with his oversized fork. Hey, I like that, oversized fork. I'm gonna use that.

"Well, in my opinion, if you have to resort to thinking about time differences, then I think you are one bored person." Tal says. "Why don't you do some practise with me instead of being all deep and meaningful and geeky. We're in the Hunger Games dude, not a philosophy class."

I roll my eyes, it was just a random question. But even still, I'm still curious about the answer. I stand up from the folding chair and take my spear in hand.

"Ok, spear versus trident. District One versus District Four. Eighteen versus sixteen." Tal announces dramatically. "...afro boy versus tanned heartthrob."

"How many times, it is not an afro!" I protest. "And _tanned heartthrob_...really?"

Tal smirks. "That's what the people say, I'm just quoting them. And yes, you have an afro."

"It is not an afro!" I insist. "My hair is just curly, that's all!"

"Whatever you say. Renny." Tal chuckles. "Now, are we having this duel or not?"

"I think not." Bryn comes walking over. "I don't think now is the time to be playing battle like ten year old boys. We have company."

Both Tal and I turn our heads to where Bryn's extended finger is pointing. In the distance, approaching camp, are two people. I squint my eyes to try and get a better look, but I can't quite make out who they are.

"Is it them?" Tal asks.

"By _'them'_ do you mean our estranged allies?" Bryn questions. "Because if you do, then my guess would be yes. However, there only seems to be two of them, which possibly suggests..."

"...that one of them died." Tal finishes and looks to us. "Do you reckon one of them is...dead?"

I shrug. "Maybe? I mean, two canons went earlier today. It could have been one of them."

"I'm not so sure." Tal says. "I mean, they're all pretty tough, right? I doubt any of them would have died yet; they're all good contenders for Victor."

"Unless Ray got on their nerves and the other two killed him?" Bryn suggests with a slight hint of hopefulness in her voice. "I would, if I was stuck with him for that long."

Looking back in the direction of the approaching pair, I try to again figure out who it is. After the time we were talking, the two people have gotten quite a bit closer. I can now see the full outline of their bodies; one tall, big built looking one, probably Kelvin by the looks of it; and the other, a tall, slim and curved frame, most definitely Brooklyn.

"I think you may be right, Bryn." I say to her. "I don't think Ray is with them."

"Ooh, I wonder how they killed him." Bryn says, curious. "I reckon it was probably Brooklyn. Do you think she did it deliberately? Or was it one of those unfortunate _'accidents'_?"

"If she even killed him." I point out. "He could have easily died in an arena based accident, like the storm or something."

Bryn shrugs. "Yeah, probably that. Although it would be awesome if she did kill him. I might consider strongly disliking instead of strongly detesting her if that was the case."

"Hey, you shouldn't be wishing Ray dead like that." Tal says, the voice of reason. "He wasn't that bad."

"Well it's the Hunger Games, right? Aren't you supposed to want people to die so you can win?"

"Oh, so you're saying that you want me dead too?" Tal says.

Bryn smiles a sly smile, then walks over to Tal and plants a light kiss on his unsuspecting lips. "Not yet, but the time will come eventually when being Victor is not just a hope, but a reality. When that happens, I cannot be blamed for seeing you as no more than someone standing in the way of my victory."

"Fair enough." Tal replies. "As long as the same applies to me,"

"It's a deal." Bryn says, closing her eyes this time as she kisses him again, supposedly to 'seal the deal'. I stand awkwardly, my fingers tapping absently on my folded arms. Glancing over, I can see the guessed Brooklyn and Kelvin entering camp from across the other side to where I'm standing.

"Erm... could you guys like stop snogging for just a minute?" I address them uneasily. "They're here."

They pull apart, both flushed in the cheeks.

"Here already? Great! I wanna know what happened to Ray." Bryn sounds excited, for all the wrong reasons, like she's celebrating an ally's death. _Possible_ death. It isn't certain yet.

"He might not be dead." I remark. "He could have just left or is walking somewhere behind."

Bryn rolls her eyes as she walks. "Don't be boring Ren."

She suddenly stops.

"What is it?" I ask her.

"Ray is there." She replies.

"See, I told you he might not-"

"But Kelvin isn't." She says, as if I never spoke at all.

"Kelvin?" Tal says. "Where is he then?"

"We'll find out soon enough." Bryn says, running of towards Ren and Brooklyn. Tal runs after her, then I follow behind.

We stop running as we meet with the two. I can tell by their faces straight away that something is not right. Ray looks tired, exhausted, dark bags under his narrowed eyes. And Brooklyn just looks hollow and empty. Her eyes like mirrored glass; like she is looking at us without seeing us.

"What's happened?" Tal asks first. "You've been days. Where's Kelvin?"

"He's dead." Ray answers in a monotone.

I hear a small gasp.

"Dead? Kelvin? How? When? Why? What?" Tal asks six questions in one.

Ray answers, "Earlier today, about a few hours ago. There was a fire in some of the buildings near the edge of the village. Kelvin thought he saw another tribute and went into the smoke. Me and Brooklyn tried to get him out, but it was too late. I think he suffocated on the smoke or something."

"Oh...my...god...really?" Bryn says. "This isn't some practical joke is it?"

"No, it is not a practical joke." Brooklyn surprises me by speaking up. Her tone is sharp and callous, like the knives that hang from Bryn's belt. "We're not sad and immature like you to play practical jokes. So yes, he is dead and that's all there is to it." And saying her piece, she storms off, almost leaving a cloud of dirt in her tracks.

I watch as she disappears into a tent, which I have re-put up after the storm, and I turn back to the others.

"Well," Bryn says. "I was not expecting _that_."

Neither was I.

Inva Reinhardt, District 3 POV

Two people died today. The cause? Fire is my best guess. It came earlier today, maybe around midday? Well, it came and it was horrific. Flames the size of the trees themselves, brighter than the sun itself. They tore through the forest like a pack of wild wolves hunting for their prey. Yet as ferocious as it looked, the fire wasn't real. Real fire would have caused a lot more damage than the occasional falling of a tree or the crispening of a bunch of leaves from fresh green to coal black. Nah, it was without doubt something controlled and man-made.

The fire hadn't reached my hiding spot at the old church; the walls of red and orange finished along the border of where the forest meets the village and only caught on a building or two that sat near that border. I saw the smoke, however, with its thick clouds of grey seeping from open cracks in the old sandstone, or rolling down alleys like waves on a disturbed ocean. The smoke reached further than any flames could, and it is the smoke of a fire that is the most dangerous. Being in one of the buildings fairly central of the village, it had taken a while for the dark gas to reach me, so I was blessed with time for an escape plan.

Actually, it wasn't really much of an 'escape' plan to be pedantic. I suppose it was more of an 'avoidance scheme', if one is to speak with such detail. And my scheme only really involved me hiding underneath ground level, where smoke could not reach.

"Ouch." I feel something tear along the skin of my palm. Lifting my hand up to the dim light of the burning stick, I can see a small gash in my pale skin and miniature puddles of red stain around the edges. I pull the sleeve of my jacket down and cover up the cut to avoid infection. I'll clean it later.

I continue with my arduous task; attempting to open up the door that has conveniently gotten stuck in it's doorway. I already noticed before that the hinges were old and rusted, and made an unpleasant groaning sound when the door was being opened or shut. However, I still chose to use the door anyway. My mistake really. In my plan to avoid the smoke, I had been searching around the church for somewhere to hide. That was when I had found the trap door. It was a little ominous to say the least, but still I tried it. It took a few strenuous tugs until it came free from the clutches of age and swung open towards me. I had taken a broken branch from my pile of firewood and rubbed it ferociously on another until it caught fire, then I had stepped down into the abyss.

The basement below was dark, extremely dark. The whole space was one big shadow. Yet I had ventured inside, armed with a light. The actual size of the basement was pretty small and was practically empty, asides from the few empty crates that piled up in the far corner. When I returned to the surface, I could see the smoke was spreading quickly, it would reach the church in a matter of minutes. And knowing the Gamemakers, it would have probably been ten times as worse as normal smoke; maybe even poisonous. So, with this to my knowledge, I had grabbed all the wood I could and retreated below. There I shut the door and waited, comforted only by the warmth and light of the small fires I created. Yes, I knew that the fires would create the thing I was avoiding, but I had already sorted that. There was a small gap in the door of the basement, so I allowed the small wisps of smoke to leave through that.

And that leaves me where I am now.

Typically, just so typically, the devil was on my side, to speak with relevant metaphors. The door, of which I was sceptical about in the first place, is stuck. I must have tried for about half an hour now to escape, and the aches in my wrists are tell-tale signs of my struggle.

No matter how hard I have pushed and shoved, the door just won't give way. But it isn't a natural jam, it's as if whilst I was down in the basement, someone had sealed the door shut with locks as strong as diamonds. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it was done on purpose, by the Gamemakers of course.

Sighing, I step back from the door and collapse down on the top stair. My knee bounces as I sit there, thinking. I've done a lot of thinking lately. Brainstorming while I've been trapped down here. At first it was all thoughts about how to get out of here; including plans of smashing down the door with a sledgehammer at one desperate point...which I probably would have done if there was a sledgehammer down here.

Speaking of what is down here, I think I just saw something I didn't notice before.

Creeping, for no apparent reason, I move down the narrow steps. My hand is raised, my fingers gripped tightly around my lit branch, the fire dangerously close to my hand. I can feel its heat tickling my skin, making the tiny hairs that sit on my skin dance with energy.

Once down the stairs, I hold the branch low, sweeping the floor with light. Nothing, except the ashes of my previous small fires, is there. I frown, sure something caught my eye before.

I pace the boxed room, moving the light around in front. I scan the floors, the walls, until I finally notice it. It, being the markings.

I stop in front of the far wall, the steady orange glow from the fire lighting up the grey stone. I find my eyes resting upon a series of strange markings. Scratchings, a mess up of thousands of slanted lines and circles all intersecting each other. There's no beginning and no end. It's impossible.

Yet, it's so intriguing that I find myself overwhelmed and interested in the markings. They look so foreign and unreadable, but I begin to notice a pattern. Under a line of mixed markings, are a set of separate symbols. Each one looks like a picture of some sort, rather than a letter or number.

With a delicate finger, I trace the shape of the first symbol; one that looks like a circle, with several small circles inside and at the very centre, is a symbol that I recognise. It's the symbol of pi, not as in the gravy filled pastry the Capitol are very fond of, but the symbol I learnt in school. It's a math symbol, one that calculates the circumference of circles and all other related things. We all had to learn it at school because District Three specialises in technology and a lot of the inventions used contain many small circles.

I study the symbol, my mind working quickly, like a thousand cogs turning a thousand more. I have always thought in a logical way; I see things the way they are and nothing else. So this to me, is no more than a problem needing to be solved.

I start with the circle, as I already understand what the symbol in the centre is. To me, the set of many circles, each smaller than the other, sets off one image in my mind. The targets at the training centre in the Capitol. I remember them so clearly now and when I look back at the symbol, I can see the target board.

"How interesting..." I mumble, my eyebrows once again knitted in a frown. "So the picture is a target board, the centre being the symbol of pi..."

Could it be that the pi is the bulls-eye? It seems that way. Perhaps pi represents something targeted, maybe a person? This is the Hunger Games, so the targets in here are other tributes. So maybe pi represents one of the tributes?

I run through the faces of the tributes I remember. Who could be related to pi? Maybe someone from a District that uses maths and calculations. Like Three or Five? If it's Three, the two tributes are myself and Fickle. Fickle died on the first day, in the Bloodbath. But he doesn't strike me as the sort of person who would be represented as a math symbol; he would be more like a small bird, tiny and innocent and with his mind off in the clouds. Not pi, never.

Who else? Me? No, again, I wouldn't think of myself as someone who would be represented as pi. So that leaves District Five, but I doubt Raymond would be interested in math, he seems to interested in himself from what I saw in the Capitol. And the female from Five is Victoria, _was _Victoria. But she seems too different also.

It's thinking of Victoria's bright red hair that makes me realise. The boy from Ten, the ginger one with the glasses. Horacio, I think his name was. That's it! He was into maths and physics and all of that, I heard him talking to one of the survival trainers once about calculating weather patterns or something. I remember how everyone muttered about him, calling him names behind his back, but not me. I had sort of admired his intelligence. I'm intelligent, I like to think, but not in the way he was. He probably solved equations all day long, whereas I am more gifted in the solving of real life problems. Exactly like this one.

Maybe this was set deliberately. Maybe it contains clues about the arena or something? I'm not sure, but all I can do is stay here and solve these riddles. I have plenty of time anyway.

"Ok," I summarise out loud to myself. "the picture shows a target board with a pi symbol in the centre. Which suggests that Horacio is a target..."

A thought occurs to me. Horacio is dead. He died first.

He died first.

He died first! That's why his symbol is first on the list! Yes, exactly!

But where does that leave the target? He was too easy to be considered a specific target, so maybe the target means something else...like...the targets back in the training centre? I had stayed away from the target stations, practising with weapons only on dummies as most of the time, the long distance throwing stations were full. Full, with the likes of keen knife throwers like Bryn, the small girl from Two.

Oh my god. That's it. The target board represents Bryn; no-one else could throw like she could, so it has to be her. And she was the one who killed Horacio!

Right, so the first problem is solved. So now that I know the pattern, I can figure out the rest. It seems that each tribute has their own symbol that represents them. Yet only thirteen different ones are shown here, which fits right, as eleven people have died and probably the other two were involved in the killing of some of them.

Which also means that I am yet to earn a symbol.

This church is getting more interesting each day. First it was the gravestones that displayed the names of those deceased, and now this. It's like this place is a record of deaths...

...or maybe this place _determines _death.

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**A/N- Ok, so that was that. **

**Thoughts? Do you still have the same opinion about Zephyr/Luna leaving the alliance now that you have heard Heidi and co's thoughts? Do you agree with Heidi's easy forgiveness, or do you side with Rhea and see it as a betrayal? What about the Career pack? Do you think they'll be different now that Kelvin has gone? Who will grab the chance at becoming the new leader? And finally, what about Inva's discovery? What do you think that could mean for the rest of the games? Could it be more than it seems?**

**Ok, so please continue to read (and review!). I really enjoy writing this story for all of you and I'm so happy that people are enjoying it :D**

**Not sure when next chapter will be up.. I have some big science exams this week and reheasals for the production I'm in are almost every night...However! After this week, it is a half term break, so there should be plenty of writing time then! Yay!**

**Until then...bye x**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	30. A Birthday In The Arena

**A/N- Cooeeee chappies! I have returned with yet another installment of this story. This time, as you can see from the chapter title, I have put in something interesting and different into the story and the characters. I tried to make some of it entertaining, so that's better than depressingness all the time, right? Well, I hope you like it! :D**

* * *

Raymond Periwinkle, District 5 POV

I wake up feeling awake. Alive. Vibrant. On-top-of-the-world you could even say. As my eyelids lift and eradicate my blindness, I see the light. Both literally and metaphorically. Literally because it's morning and narrow strips of light beam in through the gaps in the flaps of the tent I'm lying in. And metaphorically because I'm having a revelation.

That revelation being that today is my birthday.

I know it's my birthday for several reasons, one being that due to the fact that I love growing older and look forward to becoming a proper man, I have a constant countdown of months, days, even minutes until my birthday within my mind. It's sort of an obsession really; I love birthdays (mine especially) and the feeling of crossing off another day in my imaginary calendar as my birthday draws near is just one of the best feelings there is. So yes, finally, today the countdown has reached zero...and will start again at three hundred and sixty four tomorrow. And the other reason why I know it is my birthday is because I have that tingling sensation running throughout my veins that I always get on special occasions. I'm kinda like a child in that way.

"Ah, good morning world!" I say gleefully, stretching out my arms above my head as I sit up in the sleeping bag. The slippery material slides off my belly as I do so. "And happy birthday to me!"

Normally, if I was back home, this would be the point where I swing my legs out of bed, prance along the carpeted floor (because we could afford carpet), burst out of my bedroom and yodel at the top of my voice, announcing that everyone in the house is my slave for the day. However, I am not at home so I have to make do with clumsily sliding out of the sleeping bag, stumbling along with my feet still caught in the thermal material, almost falling out of the tent and bellowing at a mid range tone, "EVERYBODY WAKE UP!"

A few moments later, a tent flap flies open and a head sticks out. It's Tal, his copper hair ruffled from sleep and his sea green eyes staring at me with a look of annoyance, probably due to the fact that I just woke him up.

"What the hell is going on?" He asks groggily.

"I'll tell you what's going on." I say, but before I can, another tent flap opens. This time, Bryn's head pops out.

"Excuse me Raymond, but you do realise that some people are trying to _sleep_." She says grumpily. "And you shouting about goodness knows what isn't very helpful."

"Just think of me as your personal alarm clock." I wink at her, earning me an early morning scowl.

"Well there's no point in going back to sleep now." Tal says. "We might as well get up now."

Bryn huffs and disappears inside her tent, emerging seconds later with her thin arms folded across her chest and a scowl still present on her face. Tal comes out of his tent too, his hair still messed up, but his eyes look less like they're made of glass and more like real eyes.

"So, why were you shouting then?" Tal asks, adopting the same crossed arms as Bryn.

"Well," I take a breath, but once more, my explanation is cut off as Ren walks out of his shared tent with Tal. Unsurprisingly, his hair is all over the place, but it's always like that anyway; it's so curly.

"I heard shouting." He says, walking over and joining us. "What's going on?"

"Well," I cough sharply. "If you would all let me explain, which I have been trying to do about three times, then maybe you would stop asking. Or, maybe I should just wait to see if _anybody else _wants to come out and question my actions? Huh!"

Three sets of eyes stare at me blankly, as if I've lost my mind.

"Ok, well it looks like no-one else wants to break me off, so I shall explain now." I don't pause for breath, in fear that I will be interrupted in my moment of joy. "Today is a special day. Because today, my dearest comrades, is my birthday."

"That's it?" Bryn raises her eyebrows. "You woke us all up to tell us that you've aged?"

"Yes. Precisely."

"Well whoopee doo daa, congratulations on living another year." She says with deep sarcasm that makes me want to clench up my fists. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to have some breakfast and I'd like to eat it without having things yelled around, ok?"

"I shall join you." Tal says to her, following her lead as she heads towards the Cornucopia, the place of storage.

"Well I guess I will also join them for breakfast." Ren says. "Oh and um, happy birthday..."

I watch as he walks off and joins the others. Ok, well that wasn't quite the warm reaction I was hoping for. But oh well, it's my birthday for the whole day. And I'm hungry now, so I think I shall go join them for some food.

"Hello again everyone." I say, sitting myself down on a folding chair between Tal and Bryn. "What's for breakfast."

"Dried biscuit-cracker thing." Tal replies, handing me one. "Very dry, so I suggest drinking some water afterwards."

"Tah."

I take the biscuit thingy and stuff half of it into my mouth. The moistureless, scratchy and plain texture of sandpaper fills my mouth and throat as I chew on the food. It burns the roof of my mouth and the sides of my throat as I attempt to swallow it all, like a match being struck against brick. Not the best meal I've ever eaten.

Once the sandpaper is eaten, I take Tal's advice and gulp down a few large mouthfuls of water. It seems to neutralise the dryness and brings back the presence of saliva in my mouth.

"So, Raymond," Bryn addresses me using my full name, which I hate by the way. "How many candles on the cake today?"

"Nineteen." I answer proudly.

"Nineteen? Really?" Ren questions. I nod.

"Yes, nineteen years of the world containing the most fabulous specimen."

"You mean the most arrogant specimen." Bryn 'corrects'.

I give her a false smile. "Comrade, I'm only arrogant because I am something worth bragging about."

Bryn rolls her eyes and mouths 'is he for real?' to the other two boys. Tal smirks and replies, "sadly, I think he is for real."

I lean back in my chair, letting it take the weight of my muscled back. Yes, _muscled_. And I think happily to myself. Becoming nineteen feels like quite an achievement really. Twenty three people each year don't live to become nineteen and usually if you do reach that age, it means you have survived without being a tribute in the most brutal games in history. But for me, that's different. I'm both nineteen and in the Hunger Games (a Quarter Quell as well). I feel as if I'm almost cheating; the eldest age to be reaped (or volunteered) is eighteen and I've exceeded that age. Wow, achievement. Rule bender. Trend setter. History maker.

"Hey, comrades." I address the others. "Technically I shouldn't still be here."

"What do you mean?" Tal asks, confused.

"Well you know the eldest age to be a tribute is eighteen." I say. "And I'm older than that...So really, I should be taken out of the arena right now. It's an unfair advantage to all you others."

"Yeah, but you were still eighteen when you were reaped- I mean volunteered." Tal says, covering up his mistake smoothly. "So you're not under any advantage. Careers have huge advantages over District Twelve thirteen years olds, for example, and there are no rules objecting that. So why are you any different?"

I refuse to accept his statement. "No, I'm sure there are rules about this occurrence." I stand up and tilt my head up to the sky, shouting as loud as I can to gain attention. "GAMEMAKERS! YOU CAN SEND IN MY HOVERCRAFT NOW! I'M READY TO LEAVE THE ARENA NOW THAT I HAVE BECOME OF AGE!"

The air is silent and the sky stays clear, apart from the occasional sheep shaped cloud that dawdles along the clear blue canvas. And no sign of a hovercraft.

"They're just preparing it." I say to the others. "I'll be outta here at some point today."

"Of course you will be." Bryn snarls. "If only."

We all sit for a while, Tal still nibbling at his biscuit thingy and pulling faces as the food absorbs all the moisture in his mouth and brings the need to gulp down more water. Ren gets up and wanders off somewhere, probably doing some strange thing like thinking logically or organising something. And Bryn pulls out two knives and begins to scrape the blades along each other, a favourite habit of hers.

I then realise that we're missing someone. Brooklyn.

"Hey, where's Brooklyn?" I ask.

"Don't know, don't care." Bryn says, not looking up from her knives.

"Bryn, not now." I say to her. "Seriously, where is she?"

"Probably off sulking somewhere." Tal suggests. "She seemed extremely quiet yesterday when you guys came back and I didn't see her all night. She's pretty cut up over Kelvin, you know."

"Yeah, she was actually crying when he died." I recall. "She said she never hated him. But maybe she was just in shock?"

"Hmm, maybe." Tal frowns. "Unless something was erm...going on between them."

"Like what?"

"You know, like a sort of relationship or something."

"You mean like you and Bryn?"

Tal's cheeks don't turn pink, which is a first. Bryn doesn't look up either. I'm still new to the idea of the two of them together; I only found out yesterday when I arrived back. It seems I missed quite a lot in my absence. In a way I suppose I already kinda suspected something was going on, or would happen. They always seemed to be together, so it was only a matter of time before it all came out. See, I'm a genius; I predicted that turn out from the very beginning of the Games, you could call me psychic or just a body language expert.

"People can surprise you, Ray." Tal says. "I wouldn't be that surprised if they were together."

"I'm sure they weren't." I say quickly. "They hated each other. Besides, she likes me."

Tal looks doubtfully. "Yeah of course she does. That's why she's following you around everywhere like all the millions of other crazy obsessed female fans you have. In fact, I think we may have to call in more security to hold them off."

I scowl at him. "Don't be so sarcastic. I'm serious about Brooklyn. She kissed me a little while back."

"Brooklyn kissed _you_?" Bryn jumps into the conversation. "Ew, that's gross."

"Oh so kissing is gross now? You shouldn't be saying that in front of your lover here." I say.

"Well he's not disgusting and full of himself like you...ok, actually, he is a little arrogant, but not to an extent where I want to strangle him." She replies. "Oh, and also, he's not my _lover_."

"Lover, boyfriend, bit-of-fun, whatever you call him. What is wrong with Brooklyn and myself?"

"Everything." My ears pick up the sound of Brooklyn herself and I turn my head to see her walking over, her arms aggressively perched on her hips.

"Oh...erm, Brooklyn..." My eyes fall to the floor.

"How insensitive are you, Ray?! Kelvin has been dead for not even a day yet and already you're forgetting him and acting as if he never existed!" Brooklyn exclaims defensively. "You know I felt yesterday and all you can talk about is our stupid, false and frankly repulsive kiss!"

_Repulsive kiss?! Me?_ I can here by swear that I am _not _a repulsive kisser. I'm a very good one, I have been told.

"It was not a stupid, false and repulsive kiss Brooklyn!" I remark. "You know damn well that it was more than that. You came onto me, remember?"

"Ray, it meant _nothing_." Brooklyn snarls. "I didn't kiss you because I wanted to. I kissed you to make Kevin jealous. Ok, now you know the truth; yes, I did like Kelvin and yes, he liked me back. And if we all want to be crystal clear, then I'll tell you that yes, something went on between us. And I can say that however small it was, it was far better than anything you could ever do Ray."

I stare at her, speechless. For once in my life, I feel small. Cheated. Betrayed. How she simply used me to get to someone else, that someone who she pretended to hate. And all the while I believed her act, she strung me along and used me to get what she wanted, her ultimate goal of precious little Kelvin. The image of them together sickens me. I feel my stomach twisting into tight knots of anger and rage. I want to smash something. I want to feel something break beneath me. I want to feel strong. But I can't let any of that happen. I have pride and I need to keep it.

"Phew, well that's a relief." I lie. "I was hoping that was the case because sweetheart, I could not handle someone like you. You're just way too fussy and annoying about every little thing, it drives me insane. Glad we had the kiss so, cuz that proved all that I already knew: that I could do far better than you. So Kelvin is welcome to you...or should I say _was_..."

Brooklyn's eyes flare like fire itself. "How dare you talk to me like that."

"Sorry darlin', it's the truth." I shrug. "And if you're finding it hard to accept, then I guess now would be the perfect time to leave. The tents are over there. But just avoid mine please, I don't want your germs on my sleeping bag."

Brooklyn can't think of what to reply with, so she lets out a frustrated sound and storms off back in the direction she came. I don't even bother to watch her go, I need to keep up with the act.

"Whoa... that was kinda harsh dude." Tal says. "I think you went a little too far...She was already in a state after Kelvin and I doubt that just made her feel better."

"I think she deserved it." Bryn says. "She's horrid to the most of us, so why not throw it back in her face? I'm so glad that I'm not the only one who stands up to her. Raymond, I congratulate you on your fabulous performance there. I'm starting to think that maybe you aren't that bad..."

"Ah, well, I just like to set boundaries, you know? I think someone of my age and experience should have the respect they deserve." I say matter-of-factly.

"Ok, no need to go too far." Bryn says. "You're going to make me dislike you again."

"Oh comrade, don't speak like that. Shouldn't we all try to like each other?"

"Stop with the comrade thing, you sound like the President of Moron Ville."

"Well I should be talking like an older respected leader. After all, I am nineteen now." I pause. "Oh, and did I also mention that today is my birthday?"

Rhea Blakemore, District 10 POV

It's our first day of hunting with Guthrie. And also our first without Luna.

Guthrie isn't too bad at it actually; he likes to help out and do the best he can. When we first met him, when Heidi took him under her wing after finding him left dying after an attack, he was pretty useless. The attack had left him with wounds, both physical and emotional. Not only did he have a life threatening gash in his upper arm, but the permanent scar of seeing his ally and district partner die. At first, I was unsure of him, sceptical, but once he was stable again, I decided to like him. He has grown on me over the past few days and I think now that it would feel strange without him; I feel as if he really belongs now.

I thought the same towards Zephyr. I waiting for him to earn his place before showing any kindness towards him. I treated him like he was on trail and when he passed (with flying colours) I then made my decision to accept him. I thought he was kind, caring and a good laugh. I thought he was loyal.

Oh, how wrong was I.

One thing in life I really despise is betrayal and the abusement of trust. After the death of my parents four years ago, when I was only ten years old, the only thing I could cling onto was my brother, Conan. He and I are twins and we were always so close. I knew I could talk to him about anything and he could do the same with me. And through thick and thin, no matter how hard times got surviving on our own and trying to bring up Willow the best we could (well, the best Conan could), we always had loyalty. Conan would never leave me, and I would never leave him. It was an unbreakable bond and so, loyalty is the one thing in life that I believe to be the most important.

And that's why I feel the way I do. I see Zephyr and Luna's escape as a betrayal, to all of us. Heidi and I were always there for Luna, we never let her down. We all promised to stick together, show girl power, and go that extra mile for one an other. And I trusted her. Zephyr too, when he arrived. But they both threw that trust right back in my face and the second they left was the second I hated them.

"Where abouts are we going exactly?" Heidi asks. "All the forest looks the same to me."

"That's because you're not looking properly." Guthrie says. "Use your eyes and really look at what's around you. Maybe then you would see the difference in every single thing."

Wow, that guy can be deep sometimes.

Heidi concentrates for a moment, then sighs. "Oh, it's no good, Guthrie. All the trees look the same."

"No they don't." Guthrie insists. "Look at the way that tree bends slightly to the left, but this other one stays straight. See? They're all different, like us humans. We may act similar, but we are not the same. Take you and I for an example; we're both humans, but I think and act differently than you do."

"Well that's because you're a boy and I'm not."

"I don't mean it like that.."

"What do you mean, then?"

"I mean- oh just forget it, Heidi. I'll try and teach you some other time."

I roll my eyes. _Good luck with that..._

"Hey, Rhea!" Guthrie shouts forwards to me. "Where _are _we going?"

I stop walking. "Here. We're going here."

Guthrie and a bored looking Heidi stand beside me. Trees, lined up like soldiers, surround us. This part of the forest wasn't affected by the fire yesterday, unlike some of the other parts we walked through. Some of those trees were scared up the trunks with stains of black soot, some only fallen logs on the ash coated ground, while sections were entirely wiped out and left just the bare space of burnt somethings.

"I think we can call this a meeting point." I say, looking around for some kind of landmark. I find a curiously shaped rock; it slightly resembles a toadstool. "See that mushroom shaped rock? We'll use that as a landmark so we don't forget where to meet."

"Oh my gosh, it _does _look like a mushroom!" Heidi exclaims, rushing over to it and sitting herself delicately on it's surface. "I feel like a faerie in an enchanted wood or something."

Guthrie and I exchange strange looks.

"Well you certainly act like a faerie." Guthrie says, walking over to Heidi on the rock. "All fluttery and carefree. All pretty and dainty. In fact, the only thing missing is a pair of wings and a flower crown."

"I can fix that." Heidi says, pulling off two rather large sized leaves from a nearby bush and pinning them to her spine with her hand. "See, I have wings."

"Right," I take this as a moment to interrupt before she starts dancing around calling her 'animal friends' or whatever it is faeries do these days. "I'm going to go off and find something to kill for dinner today, ok? I won't go far and I'll be back to meet you at the rock soon."

"Sure, do you want us to come with you?" Guthrie offers.

I shake my head. "Nah, I'll be ok thanks. I can probably hunt better on my own, if you don't mind..."

"Oh no, not at all. That's probably best." He replies. "Me and Heidi will go and collect some water and meet you back here."

"Cool, I'll see you in a bit then." I say, walking off.

"Get us something decent to eat tonight please!" Heidi calls after me. "Nothing with purple blood!"

"I'll try my best!" I reply and disappear through the trees.

I walk on for a bit, until I'm quite a way away from the rock and stop when I reach a fallen tree. I sit on the trunk, almost falling off at the surprise of how close it is to the ground, and take my backpack off my shoulders. I take out my bottle of water and sip at the lukewarm liquid inside. It tastes stale, if water can taste stale, but it's water and I need it, so I drink the remaining puddle that was left in the bottle. I shove it back in the bag and pull on the zip, sealing it shut.

Now for some hunting.

I take my spear in my right hand, gripping it tightly. Rising slowly from the log, I stand still and silent, listening out for any signs of life. At first, I hear nothing. Nothing but the occasional rustling of a leaf as it breaks from it's stem and falls to the ground. Nothing but the sound of the sun beating down through the gaps in the trees above, scattered rays darting at the mud ground. Nothing, except the sound of nature.

Hearing what Guthrie said before, about everything being different in the forest, I can see what he means. Looking around me, I notice how each leaf is a slightly different shade of green, or curved at a different angle. How everything may seem the same, each thing is actually very different.

I suppose that applies to us too; us meaning past and present tributes. Each year, twenty four kids come in and one comes out. No-one really remembers many of them, only the Victors. And the others are just forgotten, categorised as 'other tributes'. That's just like this now. You tend not to take much interest in each individual leaf, you simply say they're all the same, but you do notice the bigger things, like strange shaped rocks or multi-coloured plants. Life shouldn't really be like that, but it is. And in a way, I sort of like it.

I prefer being unnoticed, I prefer being a background shadow. Being a dark horse is the best thing I could be right now and whether I am is something I'm yet to discover.

I see movement in a bush up ahead, probably dinner. Taking my rucksack, I fling it over my shoulders and creep forwards. Each step I take is carefully thought out. I check where I'm landing my foot, avoiding sticks that may break and unleash a sharp sound that would scare off the prey and I make sure to be light on my feet as well.

I approach the bush in a ready stance, my spear raised in my hand, ready to quickly shoot down if I spot the creature. But as I listen out, the air is silent.

I bend, pulling apart the branches in the bush and peering inside. But what I see isn't something I can kill for dinner.

It's a snare. A familiar snare.

I stare at it's intricate design, the way all the tiny separate parts fit together in a complex pattern. It's almost like a piece of artwork, yet I despise it.

Clearly, it's one of Luna's snares. There is only one person I have seen who can make snares like that; it's like her special trademark. No-one else would have the patience to create such a delicate but deadly trap like this, only Luna. She would spend hours working on them at our little camp and then when we went out to hunt, would spend a while setting them up in suitable places, complaining if you stood over her when she worked.

Normally, I would be glad to see a snare like this, as they were guaranteed to work swiftly and we would nearly always catch something. But now, it is the last thing I want to see.

I don't even think before my foot slams on top of the structure, snapping and breaking it apart. A small part closes around the toe of my boot, but I don't care. I keep on stamping and stamping until all that's left is a crumble of broken pieces.

Then, I spit on it.

That is how I feel towards betrayal.

Bryn Rosella, District 2 POV

If I hear the words 'birthday' or 'comrade' ever again, I swear I will kill someone; that someone being the speaker himself, Ray.

He started from dawn this morning, squawking like a mentally disturbed chicken about his birthday. Now, I'm not a fan of being suddenly and rudely woken at goodness knows what time in the morning, especially not when the cause is just to announce an irrelevant birthday; so I was pretty pissed off. And I was having a good dream as well... it actually involved Kelvin, which is weird, as firstly, he's dead and secondly, I never dream about real people. I shan't go into details now, back to slagging off Ray. Yes, so it didn't stop at the shouting, oh no, Ray always has to make a song and dance about everything to do with him. For the next few hours, he addressed us all as 'comrades' and kept going on about his 'special day'. I have never known anyone to make such a big deal about aging another year. He's worse than a five year old, and certainly a lot less tolerable. If Tal wasn't there to cool me, I would have happily flung a knife right at Ray's fat neck.

Then, it got worse after breakfast. Ray began hollering like a lunatic (well he is one anyway) at the sky, telling the Gamemakers that he was 'ready for his hovercraft'. Seriously, the guy thought that because he was nineteen now, he could come out of the arena. Just like that. Hop in a hovercraft and go back home. Maybe that's why he volunteered; to act like the tough-District-Five-boy-turned-Career and get all the attention, before stepping out of the arena like it was just a vacation and carry on living the rest of his life in luxury.

Well that didn't happen. Predictably. Thankfully.

"Hey, Bryn." It's Tal. I raise a hand in greeting.

"What's up?" I ask him.

"Oh, just the usual." He shrugs. "Slowly killing myself inside."

"Ray?"

"Yup."

"Still going on about his stupid birthday?" I ask, but I already know the answer.

"What else?" Tal says. "Well, he's moved onto presents now. He thinks that we should all give up a bit of our best food or a supply to give to him as a birthday gift."

I blink. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Sadly, I'm not. I told him he was being ridiculous and a little over the top, but he insisted. What are we gonna do? If we say no, he's bound to just take something anyway."

"Like hell is he." I stand and slot my two knives into my belt, along with the others. I like to keep a small selection of knives in my belt, it helps me to feel more relaxed, knowing that at all times I have a weapon in easy access. And also, it can be quite good when someone gets on my nerves because they tend to shrink away when they notice the knives glistening by my hips. "I think we should get him a little present of our own."

"Like what?"

"We'll find something." I say, beckoning for him to follow me. "Is Ray in his tent?"

"Yeah, I think he was taking a rest from the heat; it's pretty warm today." Tal replies.

"Good." I walk off in the direction of the tents.

When we arrive, I notice that Ray has inched his tent a little further away from the other two and I roll my eyes at the sight. This dude is getting beyond ridiculous now. It's as if after the death of Kelvin, Ray has suddenly come out of his shell and started to inflict his ways upon everyone else. It's like he thinks he's the new Kelvin or something; bossing people about, acting all superior and generally being a pain in the neck. I never thought I would say this, as Kelvin often drove me insane with his habits, but I actually wish he was still here. And to make the wish even better, I wish Ray was the one dead instead.

I don't even bother knocking, or whatever you do to gain permission to enter a tent, I just walk in.

Inside, Ray is lying on his back, his eyelids closed and his breathing slow and heavy.

"I think he's asleep." Tal whispers behind me. No shit, Sherlock.

"Well he won't be for much longer." I say, without the bother to speak in a hushed voice. "Hey Raymond!"

He wakes up with a startle, his eyes flying open and his body jerking to a slanted sitting position. "What? What is it?"

"Oh, nothing." I shrug. "Just felt like disturbing your sleep, that's all. You looked quite peaceful just then."

Ray scowls at me. "I was quite peaceful...until _you _woke me up like a blaring siren."

"Ah, karma's a bitch, right?" I laugh and leave the tent, a smug smile on my face. I like this revenge thing, whoever invented it was a genius.

"Nice one." Tal congratulates my efforts once we're out of ear-shot from the tent. "You should have seen his face."

"Why thank you, Tal." I accept my praise. "But I'm afraid things are only going to get worse for him. The birthday boy still needs a present from his Auntie Bryn and Uncle Tal..."

Tal eyes me suspiciously. "I know that face, Bryn. It's your evil genius idea face, isn't it?"

"It might be." I grin wickedly. "Now, unless you want to stand around like a lemon instead of having some fun, I suggest you come with me to the forest. We have some shopping to do."

A small, matching sly smile appears on Tal's face. "We'd better get going then."

About fifteen minutes later, we're both standing in the forest. There's a short path leading directly from camp to the gate in the giant fence which leads to the forest, so we got there in no time. Now, standing amongst the thick abundance of nature, my wicked side takes over completely. We need to find something horrible, which I'm sure is in plenty of supply.

"What are we looking for exactly?" Tal asks, poking about in some bushes.

"Anything that will ruin Ray's birthday and send him into a pit of humiliation to the whole of Panem." I reply.

"What, like this bug creature thing?"

"Ooh, let's see." I rush over beside him, where his head is shoved into a bush with purple tipped leaves.

Tal's long, slender finger points down to a cluster of maggot-like creatures. Their peach, fat and sticky looking bodies squirm around in the dry leaves on the forest floor and they emit quite a foul smell.

"Ew, they stink." I pinch the end of my nose and speak with a strange sounding voice, "They're perfect. Take one out, Tal."

He flashes me an annoyed scowl, but does as he's told and dips his careful hand into the pile of gross bugs. He makes a disgusted sound, but draws back a few moments later with one bug sitting in the palm of his hand.

"Ick, it's all slimy." He complains.

"Aww, poor little girly Tal. Disgusted by a little creature." I sneer at him. "Here, drop it into this box."

Tal tips his hand to let the creature fall into the box, but it doesn't. It stays firmly attached to his palm.

"It won't budge." Tal says, shaking his hand violently. "Ugh, I think it's sucking my blood or something. Ew! Ew!"

I roll my eyes, drama queen. "Hold still, or you won't have a hand left." I warn him, pulling out one of the smallest knives from my belt. "Stay still."

I watch as Tal's eyes grow wide as I lie the blade of the knife on his tanned skin. Carefully, I edge it towards the bug and begin scraping it from his hand. Tal winces a little, but allows me to continue. After a minute or two of careful cutting, I manage to separate the bug from Tal's hand and drop it into the box.

Tal looks down at his hand. I do too; it's pretty clean after the experience and I only left him a small and shallow cut across the centre of his palm. A droplet of blood trickles out and runs through the creases in his skin.

"Don't complain about that." I say. "It's tiny and doesn't even hurt."

"I wasn't going to." Tal quickly says. "C'mon, let's give Ray his gift."

We walk back to camp, me cradling the small box in my arms like it was a chest of precious gold, while Tal glances down to his hand every so often when he thinks I'm not looking. As we enter the grounds of the Career camp, an idea strikes me.

"Hey Tal, do you still have that mini catapult thingy you made the other day when you were on night watch?" I ask him.

He nods his head. "Yeah, it's in my tent. Why? Planning on using it to fire something at Ray?"

"Something like that."

I wait outside while Tal runs into his shared tent with Ren and comes back out with a small contraption sitting in his hands. He offers it to me.

"Wait a sec." I say, opening the lid of the box and tipping it's contents on the floor. The bug flops out and splats on the floor, before quickly returning to it's fat little maggot shape. "Put the catapult in the box."

Tal does so and I place the box on the ground. Very rapidly, as so to avoid being attached to the bug, I pick it up with the tips of my fingers and drop it into the box and slam the lid shut.

"Now we're ready." I say, gesturing to Ray's tent.

"Ray!" Tal calls out and a few seconds later, Ray's head pops out the tent, his face back to it's normal colour and a lot less red from anger as it was before.

"What d'ya want?" He asks grumpily.

"We have a birthday present for you." Tal replies. "Like you requested before."

At the mentioning of a present, Ray steps out of his tent and comes rushing over to us. "Ooh, what is it? Can I have it now?"

Wow, this guy is excitable.

"Go get Ren and Brooklyn." I say. "We want them to see it too. Tal and I worked hard on it."

Ray nods and runs off. A few minutes later he returns with a confused looking Ren and a bored looking Brooklyn. I'm actually surprised she came after what happened earlier.

"I'm only here because it's Bryn and Tal's doing so it's sure to be a prank or something." Brooklyn says before any of us can question her presence.

"It's not a prank, is it?" Ray asks us suspiciously.

"Oh no, Raymond." I say. "I feel upset that you thought that of us. When we were only trying to be kind. I guess we'll just take this present away then..."

"No, it's ok." Ray suddenly says. "I'll take it. I won't have many presents to open anyway, seeing that I'm not home...yet."

"Well, go on then, open it." Brooklyn yawns. "I'm getting bored here."

"Ok, here it goes." Ray says, his voice starting to sound excited again. He peers at the box for a few moments before flipping open the lid.

The next few seconds are the best few seconds I have ever experienced in my entire life. Ray screams.

Our plan worked perfectly and Tal's catapult sent the bug flying straight at Ray's face, where it sticks like super glue onto his cheek.

"Ah! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!" He yells, clawing at it with desperate fingers. "IT'S SUCKING MY BLOOD, AH!"

Tal and I erupt into fits of uncontrollable laughter, leaning on each other to keep standing up. Ren chuckles too, clutching the side of his stomach. Even Brooklyn manages a smile. And all the time we laugh, Ray screams and claws at his face.

This is the best birthday I have ever been to. _Ever_.

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**A/N- Ah, sweet revenge. If only I had a bug like that... I would put it on so many people's faces...if only. Haha.**

**Right, I'm not going to ask all the questions and blah blah, because I have something exciting to talk about instead and my author notes are getting to long now...**

**Ok, so basically, I am running a 24 Author Collaboration. I mentioned in previous chapters that I was in one, but that got sort of finished...shame :( Well, me and some friends have decided to do our own collaboration! I'm a moderator for it and currently, we are looking for some authors to make this story happen! There is a link to the forum on my profile and I strongly try to persuade you to go check it out, it's a great writing oppertunity as well as one to have fun and make friends! Please do look and I hope many of you readers will apply to be part of it!**

**Thanks for reading and I'm giving you a heads up that someone will die in the next chapeter ;)**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	31. The Victim, The Guilty and The Witness

**A/N- Wow, I actually updated quickly! I did expect to write this chapter fairly quickly, so yeah... whoop whoop. Hopefully I can keep this fast writing up? Let's hope :) Anyways, I'm sure you're eager to read the next chapter, with the knowledge that someone is going to die...**

* * *

Tal Fontaine, District 4 POV

Ray is in a bad mood. A foul mood. One of those moods where he will sit in a pit of despair, a scowl permanently tattooed onto his stubbled face and try to bring everyone else down with him. Brooklyn's already there, almost, except she seems more depressed than grumpy. But Ren, Bryn and myself? Nah, the sky is blue (sort of) and we're not planning on wasting the day in a strop.

"I think Ray's still pissed of with you after yesterday's..._performance_." Ray says to me, a reminder of the wonderful prank we played on Ray for his birthday yesterday. The best moment of my life. Ok, maybe second best moment, after myself and Bryn's first kiss. "He hasn't left his tent; only to grab some food earlier."

"I'm not surprised." Bryn says. "We did humiliate him probably in front of the whole of Panem - on his precious birthday too."

"Oh please don't mention 'birthday' again, _please_." I groan. "I wish the Gamemakers _had _taken him out yesterday. Could we not beg them to remove him today?"

"Sadly, I think not," Bryn pauses, then adds sneakily. "Or we could just kill him."

Ren frowns. "I wouldn't try that; Ray's pretty tough and all the anger inside him would surely power him further. You'd struggle to get out alive."

"Nah, Bryn's pretty slick with a knife. I'm sure we could lure him out and then Bryn could lob a knife at him." I say.

"However tempting that may be," Ren sighs. "I don't think you're meant to kill your allies. Unless it's the final battle, which it is not."

Bryn grunts. "Some ally."

"Yeah, well I promise to you Bryn that if the time ever comes, I shall let you finish Ray off." I say to her. Her face lightens up a little.

For a while, we fall silent, the thought of killing Ray most definitely floating around all three of our minds. I wonder what it would be like to kill someone. I had gotten close to a few kills in the bloodbath, but never managed to actually kill anyone. I know Bryn has taken a life, she had the first kill, so she'd know what the experience was like. It's weird calling a murder an _'experience', _most people would see it as a treacherous and unforgiving crime, but when you've grown up in a Career District, killing is implied as second nature. I've done a fair bit of training, slaughtered a few hundred dummies and been in a few fist fights, but I am still yet to do what a Career boy is encouraged and taught to do: kill. But I'm sure it will happen soon, it has to.

Back doing what we were doing, we all look up suddenly as the entrance to Ray's tent flies open and he storms outside. You can practically see smoke rising out of his skull and see fire in his breath. His face is still contorted with rage. We must have got him bad...

"You two," He snaps, pointing sharply to Bryn and I. "Go out to the forest and kill something for us to eat tonight. Make sure it's decent. And don't take all day either." And after barking his orders, he storms back into his tent and lets the flap close slowly behind him like a cape flowing from the back of a superhero, or super villain in this case.

Bryn pulls a face in disgust. "I am not taking orders from him. Who does he think he is, bossing us about like that? I'm not having it." She gets up.

"Whoa, careful, fuse." I grab her wrist to stop her from leaving. "Remember what Ren said? I wouldn't risk it yet."

"Fine." She huffs. "But I'm still not taking his orders."

"Why not?" I ask. "It'll be fun to go off into the forest; I'm bored stiff here. Don't you want a little freedom and escape from Ray? Don't think of it as taking his orders, think of it as a spontaneous adventure that just happens to involve completing a task for Ray."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Ok, ok. If not for the adventure, then just come because I need company and I'm to irresistible to say no to." I grin as I reach the last half of the sentence.

Bryn narrows her eyes. "Ok, fine, I'll come. But not because you're 'too irresistible to say no to', I'm just coming for the exercise."

"Of course, just for the exercise." I say sarcastically and tug on her arm. "C'mon, let's get going."

Bryn quickly jogs into the Cornucopia, where we sitting just outside of, and returns with a large bag. I grab my trident.

"Have fun guys." Ren winks at us. "I'll just be here, sitting all by myself, bored, unwanted, unloved..."

"You're not coming Ren." Bryn cuts him off, laughing and this time it's her turn to grasp my arm and haul me away. I give Ren a salute and he mouths 'good luck' before I'm dragged away from camp and on the road leading to the forest.

It doesn't take too long to reach the forest and we slide the bolt to open the gate. It groans unpleasantly as the hinges turn, rust settled on the surface of the old metal.

Bryn walks ahead, leaving me to close the gate and I have to run to catch up with her bounding steps.

"Wait up!" I call after her. "I'm gonna lose you!"

"Well then you can just find me again!" She shouts back, a hint of mischief in her tone. "Just watch out for the-"

"Ouch!" I yell. Too late. My face is impaled by thousands of tiny spears called thorns, all piercing my flesh and sending darts of pain rippling through my cheeks. I can taste blood on my lips.

Cursing under my breath, I swat the plant away and spit on my hand, using it to wipe at my face, My hands come back smeared with crimson blood. I wipe them on my trousers, adding to the many other stains of dirt, mud and moss that I have gathered up over the days in the arena. I've almost forgotten what clean clothes feel like. And what they smell like. Oh, what I would do now to put on some freshly washed and pressed trousers that smell of house and washing powder. My mother used to use a sprig of mint in with the washing, she said the plant had some cleaning properties as well as smelling fresh, although whenever I wore my clothes (which was for the parts of the day when I wasn't sleeping or messing about on the beach) I always used to smell like I had just brushed my teeth. Which isn't a bad thing, I guess.

With the holes in my skin finally finished erupting with cool lava, I continue on looking for Bryn. In the space of my hustle with the thorns, she has managed to completely disappear from my sight. And because she is so damn light on her feet, she has left no trace of her movements. Hurrah. More effort on my behalf to find her now. Fantastic.

"Bryn?" I call out hesitantly. "I know you're here somewhere."

No reply.

"Oh come on, Bryn." I moan. "I can't be bothered playing hide-and-seek now. Aren't we too old for that?"

"Maybe so." I hear her voice from somewhere nearby, but I'm unsure exactly where. "We should probably play more challenging games. Like, oh I dunno, darts?"

"Darts?"

"It's ok, we can use knives instead. And you can be the board."

I barely have the time to register the last comment before a small blade comes zooming in my direction and skims past me, missing my ear by millimetres and hitting the tree behind. I turn in shock and stare at the knife imbedded into the trunk. I can see small finger smudges on the blade where Bryn must have run her fingers along it.

"Good shot, eh?" Bryn says, coming out of some plants and grinning as she walks up to me. She pulls the knife out of the tree with a swift tug. "Pretty close to you, right?"

"Too close." I say. "Way too close for my liking. I thought you were trying to kill me, or at least slice off my ear."

"Oh no, I'm not ready for you to die yet, Tally boy." She grins. "I was pretending that the tree was Ray."

I chuckle, finally over the shock...well, over most of it, I'm sure it will haunt my dreams. "Well, if it was Ray, he'd sure be dead right now. That was a wicked shot."

"Only expect the best from District Two's finest knife thrower." Bryn says egotistically. "Of course, I expect an applause."

"Oh right, of course." I give her a few claps and she neatly bows, showing her appreciation of my praise. "Now, are going to get some food or what?"

"What."

"Ugh, you."

"Ugh, _you_."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

I prod her shoulder sharply. She pushes me into a tree.

"Hey! I only prodded your-" I'm cut off with a sharp _shh_.

"Don't say a word." Bryn mouths to me and drops to a crouch. I follow her pose and we crawl silently along the forest floor, hiding behind a tall bush. Bryn puts a hand to her ear, waits for a moment, then turns to me with a cunning smile plastered on her pixie-like face.

"Other tributes." She whispers.

Luna Damion, District 11 POV

"Ugh, I'm thirsty." I lick my dry lips with my equally dry tongue. "Are we near the river yet?"

Zephyr pushes back a bunch of low hanging vines and gestures for me to walk through the now clear path. I thank him.

"Erm, well I'm pretty sure it's somewhere around here." He says, letting the vines fall back into place behind us. "Just listen out for the sound of rippling waters."

I raise an eyebrow. "Or, we could look at some of the plants."

"How would that lead us to the river?" He sounds confused. "They're hardly going to hold up a giant sign saying '_this way to the river'_."

"No," I prod his firm shoulder. "but different plants grow in different conditions. Plants that grow nearer the water tend to have different properties and if we can spot one that we know, then maybe we can get a sense of direction."

Zephyr rolls his eyes. "Making me sound unintelligent again, sigh. Can't we just stumble upon a grain field or something? Then I could show off with my grain knowledge."

"You have grain knowledge?"

"Of course, I am from District Nine...Ok, I didn't listen when my Dad explained grain fields and shit to me, I got bored too easily and ended up getting mesmerised by a passing bird."

"A passing bird?"

"I was eight. I had a curious mind."

I shake my head, laughing a little as I does so, then wince at the returning throbbing in my feet. "Oh, my feet are so achy. Maybe we could...rest for a while?"

"Rest?!" Zephyr gasp in fake astonishment. "How dare you suggest such a vile and treacherous thing! We must carry onwards, no time to rest here."

"But my feet are seriously killing me." I say, bending down to rub at the side of my left foot in an attempt to at least relieve some pain. I look back up at Zephyr with pleading eyes, "Please?"

Zephyr shakes his head, defiant. "Nope, we must keep moving. However..."

I let out a startled squeal as he suddenly crouches and lifts me from the ground. My body, like a child in his strong arms, cradled against his t-shirt. His arms rest underneath the bend in the back of my knees and his other hand cupping under my armpit. I feel weightless in his grip and judging by the effortless way he carries me, I guess I don't weigh much at all. Well, that isn't very surprising, due to the fact that I'm quite skinny and haven't got any muscle. Any fat that I may have had, like the tiny bits here and there around my hips, has now been eradicated. If you didn't have to kill people in this arena, I'd suggest this as a good diet.

We walk along for about what I'd guess as ten minutes, well Zephyr walks and I'm carried, before we eventually hear the sound of running water. Finally.

"Aha, I hear the river." Zephyr says. "Time to cure your thirst."

We break through the lining of trees and into the cleared zone around the river. We probably should have checked if anyone else was there, but it's too late now and my desert-dry mouth is desperate.

Zephyr gently puts me down and as soon as my feet come in contact with the soft ground, I groan with the returning dull ache that appears once more. I'm sure we can take a proper break now before we go off hunting for something to eat.

"Zeph?" I say. "Could you pass me my water container so I can fill it up, please?"

"No, you sit yourself down on that uncomfortable looking boulder and I'll get the water for you." Zephyr points to an oddly shaped rock. "You said your feet were sore, right?"

I smile warmly at his kindness. "Ok, thanks."

At first, I find the boulder quite awkward to sit on, lumps and bumps digging into the bones beneath my flesh. But after a little squirming and shuffling, I manage to find a relatively comfortable position as Zephyr hands me a drink. I take it gratefully and gulp down the whole container full in seconds.

"Better?" Zephyr asks, taking the container back from me to refill it.

"Oh yes, much better." I reply. "You having some?"

"Yeah, just as soon as I...wait a second." He stops in his tracks.

"What is it?" I ask, suddenly starting to feel anxious.

Zephyr places the water container carefully on the ground, not making a single sound, then reaches for his short-lengthed sword.

"I think I just spotted us dinner." He says, creeping delicately on his feet in a direction away from me. "I'll be one moment..."

"Should I come with you?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nah, you can rest here if you want. I'll only be a couple of metres away, you won't miss me too much. Unless you particularly want to come?"

"It's ok, I'll stay here." I say, glad to stay sitting. I don't think I could walk much more than a few metres right yet. I should be fine once I've rested my weary feet for a little longer.

"Back in a minute then." Zephyr says. "I shall return shortly with your dinner." He puts on a funny accent when he says _dinner_, sort of sounding like _din-eer_.

"I'll be here, resting my poor feet." I say back to him, pointing to my feet. "See, I'm in no position to be trekking after an animal."

"Ok, well bye for now. See you in a minute." He blows me a quick kiss before disappearing off. I blow one back, but he's already gone and it's lost to the air around. Oh well, he can have a real kiss when he returns.

Hmm, now on my lonesome, I realise that this really is an uncomfortable boulder. Zephyr distracted me before so that I didn't notice the digging pain I feel in my left bum cheek. Zephyr has that effect on me. Not the bum cheek thing, the distracting thing.

"Be comfy, you stupid rock." I slap the hard stone, my palms sting from the blow. The rock doesn't do anything. Of course; it's not like it would magically turn into a sofa or anything.

A soft rustle in one of the bushes near where Zephyr had left catches my eye. That was quick, but then again, Zephyr's quite good at the hunting stuff. I just make the snares.

Both fed up with the pain in my bum cheek and eager to give Zephyr the kiss I've been planning, I slide off the rock and head towards the bushes.

"Hey, that was very quick." I say. "What did you get?"

No answer.

"Zeph, I said; what did you get?" I repeat. "Or let me guess, it got away and you feel unintelligent again."

Once more, no answer.

"Zeph?"

A figure steps out the bush, only a metre away from me, except it's not Zephyr. I let out a small gasp.

"Sorry to disappoint you, m'am, but I'm afraid you've got me mistaken." The person says. "My name isn't Zeph, it's Tal."

I don't say anything. I just stare at the boy, at _Tal_. He stands only a little taller than me and not much bigger in size either. He seems slender, but not skinny, with only a little muscle in his bare arms. His copper coloured hair glistens slightly in the stifled rays of light and his sea green eyes shimmer with anticipation as they look down at me. His tanned face is set still, his jaw ever so slightly tensed.

"Sorry if I startled you, miss." He speaks again, this time softer than before. But his gentle tone could not be more frightening. "I was just wandering through the woods, I didn't mean to bump into you like this."

I can tell already that he is a Career. From the way he acts with me, like I'm inferior to him, patronizing me and making me feel weak in the legs. A non-career couldn't be as menacing and as painfully slow moving as he is being right now. I don't even have to rack my brains to remember him, the image is set clear in my mind as soon as I notice the silver trident he holds in his right hand. He is the boy from District Four, he scored a ten. I scored a seven. Three points higher. Three big points better.

"I see you are speechless in my presence." Tal says. "But if you may, could you possibly introduce yourself to me? I would very much like to know the name of my victim- I mean, new friend."

A lump forms in my throat. He's going to kill me.

I begin to back away, but don't turn my back as he could easily thrust forwards his trident and I wouldn't be able to see. The heels of my feet drag against the softened ground and my legs shake as I reverse. My hands tighten into sweaty fists and I keep my arms firmly by my sides. I am not prepared for this. Where is my knife?

With desperate eyes, I scan for some sort of weapon, but my knife is over by the boulder and if I try to make a dash for it, I wouldn't make it in time. And even if I did manage to reach it, what good would a tiny knife do against the monstrous trident?

I feel my body crash into something behind me. A first I think it's another person, but it turns out to be only a tree.

And Tal advances slowly towards me, his moves swift and controlled. His eyes never leaving mine. I feel my death looming like grey clouds on a stormy day. And there is without doubt going to be some rain today. Red rain. The rain of my blood.

Tal stops walking, yet again about a metre from me. His gaze is heavy on me.

I blink and when my eyes open again, a see a small blade flash before my face. I scream and hear a chuckle, not from Tal, but from someone else. A girl.

"Nice one Tally boy." The girl says, and I realise she's behind the tree, her hand holding the knife that hovers by my neck. "Got this one well and truly speechless."

She gently touches my neck with the knife. I hold my breath at it's cold touch. "Oh come on, tell us your name. Don't be such a boring arse."

I want to tell them, maybe I will sound less of a coward. But my attempt to speak through a dry mouth and blocked throat only comes out as a dying whisper. "Luna."

"Aww, such a pretty name." Tal says. "For a pretty girl."

I see the girl flash him a scowl. He grins back, then turns again to me, taking one step closer.

"Now, Bryn, you promised I could have this kill." He says. "So go easy with the knife, I don't want you slitting her throat before I get the chance to kill her."

My body goes numb. My head spinning. I feel dizzy. I feel nauseous. The world rocks before me.

I feel the cold of the knife resting gently on the skin of my neck, testing. I see Tal's cruel eyes stare at mine, testing. I hear the sound of my thumping heart in my chest, testing. The only thing I can do as Tal lifts his trident is scream as loud as I can.

"Zephyr! Zephyr! Help! Zephyr!"

Tal shakes his head, tutting quietly. "I don't think this Zephyr guy is coming, miss Luna."

"Yeah, your little boyfriend won't save you now. You might have survived if he hadn't have left you all alone and vulnerable." The girl, her name known as Bryn, says mockingly.

_Left you all alone. _Did Zephyr really leave me? Of course not. She's just playing mind games with me. I chose to stay, so this is my fault, not Zephyrs, my fault.

"He didn't leave me." I say defensively, finding my voice.

Bryn laughs. "Well, whatever he did, he's not here now, is he?"

"No, he's not." Tal says, the trident ready in his hands, the sharp prongs inches from my stomach. "But we are. And we're sorry that this was such a short conversation we had with you, Luna, but that's the way the cookie crumbles."

Cookies. I like cookies. I used to bake them with Ivy on our birthdays.

The trident pushes through my stomach.

Ivy would have loved Zephyr.

Arya Firestone, District 7 POV

My eyes open slowly; the light of the day gently easing into my pupils. The day is young, the fresh taste of late morning air sour in the back of my throat. I cough and roll onto my back.

Now facing the sky, half open blue space and half hidden behind clusters of high standing trees, I blink in the sunlight. I don't know how long I've been asleep, or even if I was asleep, but the last thing I can remember is crawling out of the river after... after the fire. Oh yes, I remember now. I had escaped to the river to get way from the flames and had almost fallen asleep in the cool, refreshing water. I'm not entirely sure what happened after I crawled out of the water, but I must have taken shelter amongst the shrubs I'm lying next to now.

My whole body aches and I let out a groan as I sit up, feeling my muscles tighten restrictingly. I rub the twinge that has settled uncomfortably in the back of my neck, pressing my fingers hard into the skin.

A low growl in my stomach brings my attention to my hunger. When was the last time I ate?

Scrambling in the plants around me, my hand comes across the familiar texture of my bag and I tug it free. It's coated in mud, but it's dry so I easily dust it off, watching the pale brown flakes fall to the ground. Opening the bag impatiently, I root around for something edible and find a shrivelled piece of dull meat wrapped around a scrawny looking leg bone. Probably leftovers from a couple of days back. The meat tastes foul as I eat it, most probably stale, but I finish it anyway; it's all I have right now.

Grabbing my water bottle from the bag, I empty it's contents into my mouth. The water is warm and tastes of sweat. I do a spit-take.

"Ugh, that's disgusting." I state to myself, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Well, there's no-one else here except for me, so I often find myself talking aloud. And realising that, hearing that silence, I suddenly feel alone. I know I've been alone for a long time now, but right now I feel extra alone. The last time I spoke to someone was at the launch; I have no idea how many days have passed since then, but I know it is a while to go without socialising. Even for someone fairly quiet like myself.

I'm still thirsty, so I decide, despite the stiffness of my muscles, to crawl over to the river and get some fresh water. I hear a bone in my back crack as I get onto my hands and knees, but I instantly feel a little looser. Stumbling with the weight of my body on my sore and weak wrists, I make my way clumsily over to the water's edge. There I sit, unscrew the bottle and dunk it in the water.

It's when some water slashes against my hands that I realise I still have injuries. Tiny wounds, all less than an inch long, slash across my pale skin. Most of the have closed up, sealed back the barrier of skin, but a few remain slightly opened. With a careful fingertip, I prod one of the cuts to test it's sensitivity. It stings, but not much. However, I remember how painful it was when I gained the marks, with the thorns tearing through my skin like teeth through meat. I shiver at the reminder and avert my eyes from my hands.

Taking a large swig of fresh water, I let it gush down my throat like a waterfall, soothing the sides of my burning mouth. It tastes good.

Shrugging off my destroyed jacket, with holes gaping everywhere and burnt patches making the material crisp, I let it drop to the floor and walk on my knees into the water. It sloshes at my thighs, splashing up my legs. The cooling sensation a comfort to my aches and pains. I wade in up to the waist and stay there, closing my eyes gently and just feeling. Not thinking, nor looking, just feeling.

And when I open my eyes, the corners of them snatch a peek at something. With my jacket off, my arms are bare and a horrid scar is showing. I look down to my right arm at the burned patch of skin. The first few layers are gone, completely cooked off, but another layer is starting to reform. It looks fragile and breakable, but I poke it anyway. It hurts, a lot, so much that I let out a soft cry and quickly pull back my fingers. I know now that I have to dress it.

Wading out of the river, I go back to my jacket and pick it up in my hands. I take a piece of the material and give it a harsh pull, tearing off a chunk big enough to fit around my arm. Then, wincing with the pain, I wrap it quite tightly around the wound and tie it in a firm knot. There, all done.

"Now, for some food." I say to myself, remembering my hunger.

As I clamber to my unsteady feet, I hear something that I really would not like to hear at this moment. Voices. I freeze.

"Aha, the river. Time to cure your thirst." I hear a voice, a boy's voice. Not one I recognise though.

I hear the footsteps next and it's that sound that finally makes my feet move from their planted position in the ground. I sprint, grab anything of mine in sight and leap into a bush.

Two people walk into the open space, a girl and a boy. The boy, his face vaguely familiar, carries the girl in his arms and he gently places her down on the ground. The girl, who I definitely recognise from training, I think her name is something like Lucy or Lily or anything else beginning with L. I watch from behind the bushes as she sits on a rock and the boy, who is identified as 'Zeph', brings her some water.

I eye up the pair like a hunter, assessing their position. The boy must be fairly strong, as he carried the girl as if she was just a baby, although he isn't particularly big built or anything. I notice he has a short sword near him, within arm's reach. But the girl? She looks pretty harmless to me, no weapon in sight, but I guess you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. Either way I look at it, I am not going to stand much of a chance against these two. Firstly, there's more of them, and secondly, I have a puny knife and they have a sword. Oh, and thirdly, I don't think I can get up now.

So, I wait. I wait while they drink their water and then he says he has spotted an animal and goes off chasing it. I wait while the girl waits, then as I start to think I may have a chance of escaping, things take a turn.

Someone else shows up. A Career boy from District Four, a deadly looking silver trident in his hand. He looks pretty menacing and the girl looks defenceless as he walks towards her, grinning. The boy backs her into a tree and I almost scream to the girl in warning as another girl appears from behind the same tree. I manage to catch my words in my throat before I can shout. Instead, I clamp my hand firmly across my mouth to avoid being heard.

I know they're going to kill her. Pinned up to a tree, knife at neck and a trident only inches from he torso, the girl looks petrified. I look away, but I can still hear them taunting her with harsh words and humiliation. A part of my really wants to sprint over and help, but this is the Hunger Games and I'm more likely do die as well; and besides, I should be glad another person will be dead. It will bring my chances closer of getting home.

Just hearing the screams from the girl and the sick and sadistic laughs from the two Careers makes my stomach turn. I want to run away and hide, get away from this. I don't want to hear her die. I just want to get away. But I can't. I'm trapped here and all I can do is put my fingers in my ears.

But even that doesn't block out the sound of her last cry and the canon boom following.

The two Careers are laughing harder now, high-fiving each other and mimicking the girl. I hope they go before 'Zeph' gets back, I can't witness another death now. Not ever.

But they don't leave. Not yet. They go to the river and start filling up bottles with water, splashing each other and acting as if nothing has happened. Neither of them show any regret or remorse for their murder. Not a single hint. Nothing, as if it were a normal act.

But I suppose it is a normal act for them, for these Games. I just hope I never have to experience it.

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**A/N- Awww, poor Luna :( I felt mean writing that, she was almost unhateable... unless you hated her because she was too nice? Anyways, sorry to those who liked her and to her creator; she was a great tribute. I liked working with a character like this, she had some good moments, but these things must happen and this time it was Luna's turn. She will be remembered...However, what will happen to her little sister Ivy now? And what will Zephyr's reactions be to this death? All shall be revealed...**

**Ok, so thanks everyone for reading and all that. I would like some more reviews, but I don't want to force you or act too dependant on reviews like some authors seem to be. I know that you're reading, so that makes me happy :) But don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore reviews!**

**Next chapter shall be up soon, I hope. However, it will not be an outside chapter, but you shall see why... don't worry though, there will be an outside chapter based on Luna's death in the chapter following the next :D**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

**Oh, and one more thing. The collaboration I mentioned last chapter is still accepting authors! I'm moving the deadline back a week, so hopefully as many people as possible will apply so we can have only the finest authors in the story. Again, just please check it out if you want to. People have responded great and I'm sure it will be fantastic! The forum link is on my profile :D**


	32. The Flood

**A/N- Hey everyone , sorry about the late update! (hey, that rhymes!) I've been busy all week with performances every evening; I literally had an hour every day after school to get a shower and eat before going out and coming back at 11pm... So yeah, little writing time. But anyways, it's all done now and I hope you like it! x**

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Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV 

I creep; the soles of my boots soft as feathers on the forest floor. I can't afford to check where I'm stepping otherwise the animal I'm following will hear my presence and flee, so I have to trust my feet not to step on something easily snapable. So far I have been successful - ok, almost successful, I stood in a small mountain of droppings earlier. And now the bitter smell is following me.

I've been stalking the animal for a few minutes now, just waiting for the right moment to strike. Although, I can't wait too long, Luna will be wondering where I am and I don't really like leaving her alone...last time I was too far away from Elodie and look what happened... I bite my tongue; no, I won't let myself think of that. Not now. Save that for my nightmares.

A crunch under my left foot sounds and I wince. I must have trodden on a twig, dammit. The animal in front hears it too and immediately starts to sprint away, recognising the sound as a threat. Cursing under my breath, I make a dash for it and take a wild slash at it with my sword. The tip of the blade just nips the back leg of the animal and it screeches. With it's speed slower now that it has an acquired leg injury thanks to yours truly, I make another slash and this time, the sword buries deep in its flesh and when I pull out the weapon, the animal slumps still. The blade is stained with pale red blood. I wipe it on a bush.

Prodding the animal with my toe to check it's dead, I pull out my bag and bend down. The animal only weighs the equivalent of a loaf of bread, so it's easy to shove into the bag. I stand, swing the back over my shoulder and set out on my short journey back to Luna.

As I walk, I hum quietly to myself. This is a pretty good kill; we'll eat well tonight, Luna will be pleased. I can see our evening mapped out in my mind already. I'll roast the meat over a crackling fire and the glow of the flames will cast light and dark shadows over Luna's face. Then we'll eat and I'll let her have the best bits of meat and she'll complain about me being too kind, but will eat the nicest meat anyway. And if her feet are still sore, then I'll gently take off her shoes and massage her toes until-

A canon fires. I freeze. My humming stops as soon as my happy thoughts do. My thumping heart is the first thing I hear after the loud boom of the canon.

A canon. Someone has died. Luna. I left her alone. I left her vulnerable. I. Left. Her.

I begin to run, my feet hitting the ground so hard that they burn from the impact. My body is overheating, I can feel sweat beads clinging to my skin, holding my t-shirt plastered to my torso. My hands are fists, one clenching the coarse strap of the bag and the other glued to the handle of my sword. I bite my lower lip, too hard that I can taste blood.

Trees flick past me; everything I pass becomes one big blur of green. And I keep going, not really sure which direction I should be going in, as I lost all my bearings the second I heard the canon. I keep going until I recognise the clearing where the river lies.

My heart rate picks up - ten times faster than before, on the verge of heart attack speed. All the moisture has left my mouth and a lump has formed in my throat. _Please don't let it be Luna, please I swear I won't take my eyes off her for even a second if she's alive. Just please, whoever is up there, please do not let the canon belong to Luna. Please._

I burst into the clearing, my whole body soaked in sweat and shaking.

"Luna." I gasp out, my eyes scanning nervously for her. "Luna?"

The rock she was sitting on when I left is unoccupied; I walk over to it and notice her knife on the floor beside it, untouched. Oh, so maybe that's a good sign. right? If someone had come, Luna would have grabbed the knife; it was right beside her. Of course, she would have gotten the knife. And she's probably hiding somewhere now and she'll jump out and scare the crap out of me. Yeah, she's just hiding. That's a thing she would do.

Feeling a little more at ease, I put down the bag with the dead animal inside, but I keep hold of the sword. Just in case there are Careers hunting in the woods and that canon was their recent victim. That thought makes me shiver, not for my own safety, but if Luna is hiding in the bushes when there are Careers around...

"Luna?" I say her name a little louder. "Will you please come out now, I'm feeling a little anxious I must admit."

Nothing, not even a rustle in the bushes. Well, nothing until my foot steps in something with a slightly sticky and unpleasant texture. I look to the floor, inspecting, and my breath catches as I realise what I stood in is blood. But it isn't the usual thin, watery blood I'm used to, this blood is thick and dark. Fresh. And in great abundance.

I step back, a sick feeling in my stomach. The blood on the ground seems to trial off behind a tree and although I really, really don't want to find where the trail starts, I walk around the tree anyway. I at least owe it to whoever this blood belongs to. Even if I'm pretty certain of who that 'whoever' is.

With each step, my legs quiver and I breathe less. And as I come round the trunk of the tree, my breaths stop entirely.

She's there. Luna.

Her body is limp, fallen heavily against the trunk of the tree with her head lolled to the side and her gentle curls a frame to her still face. Her deep brown eyes are open, but all emotion has left them and only reflective balls of glass remain. She would look quite peaceful if it weren't for the dark patch of blood that stains her shirt.

A gasp escapes my mouth as I drop to my knees beside her. Tears prick behind my eyes as I reach for her t-shirt and lift it up from her skin. I gag at the sight of three deep punctures in her flat stomach, dried blood crusted around the rim of the holes and the thick blood I stepped in before pours out slowly. I drop the material and let it fall back over her stomach. I can't bear to look at it anymore.

By now, one thing surprises me. I am not crying. My eyes are damp, but no tears have broken and trickled down my face. I guess I'm in to much shock now to cry, but I want to. I want to cry. I want to show that I care. I want to show my grief. But I just can't cry.

My body feels hollow as I reach over to her face. As I lie my fingertips carefully on her eyelids, I whisper that I love her and look once more into her deadened eyes before pulling the eyelids down. Now she looks asleep.

"Goodnight, Luna." I say softly to her, like I would normally do. Only this time, she does not reply. This time, she really is asleep. Forever.

Still on my knees, I turn away. I can't look at her right now because all I can see are the three wounds in her stomach. Three wounds. But she wasn't stabbed three times, no, all the holes were exactly the same size and distance apart. No, this wasn't done by any ordinary knife, sword or spear.

It could only have been done using a trident.

I grit my teeth tightly. A trident. Fishing, District Four. Tal. _Tal_. He killed her, I know it. He came when I had gone and he took away the only thing I had left to cling on to. The only thing I cared about. He could have done the same to me, but I wouldn't care about myself, I would only care about who I was leaving behind. Luna. But I wasn't killed. She was.

My head looks up and my eyes fall on the abandoned knife that still lies beside the rock. With heavy limbs I crawl to it, sharp edges from unknown objects cutting into my palms. When I reach the knife, I grasp it tightly in my right hand and crawl back beside Luna.

Settling myself next to her body, I plant a gentle kiss on the side of her cheek and finally, I feel a tear falling down my face. It drops off my jaw and lands with a tiny splash on Luna's hand.

Knife in hand, I raise it to level with my own stomach. My arms tremble as I clutch the blade in front of me, staring into it's deadly point. With just one pull, I could end this. End this life. End this never ending road of misery. End this desperate desire to be with her again. With just one simple and quick action, I could leave this treacherous place and be happy, content, with my two girls. My sister Elodie and my love, Luna. With one movement I could see them again.

I close my eyes and imagine their faces. Elodie, tears of happiness drenching her cheeks as she embraces me. And Luna, with her warm smile and full lips ready to kiss me. I can imagine that. I can have that.

I draw a breath and plunge the knife towards my stomach.

My eyes open, slowly. I'm still in the forest. I'm still sitting beside Luna. I'm still holding the knife that was meant to kill me...but didn't. I look down at my hands, my knuckles are white with strain as they still cling to the mortal blade. And the tip of the blade is touching my shirt, I can feel it's coldness on my skin underneath, but I haven't pushed it through. I haven't killed myself. I can't kill myself.

I stare at the knife for one more dull second, then toss it hard into the bushes.

I breathe, allowing oxygen to fill my lungs, an action only the living can do. If I had let myself, then I wouldn't be able to breath again. But I didn't let myself, did I? No, I acted the coward again. Because that's what I am. A coward. Sure, I volunteered for these Games to sacrifice myself to save my sister, but that was no act of bravery, it was an act of cowardice. I thought I was being brave, but in truth, I was just too scared to carry on with my life if she died. I was too scared of being left alone. I was a coward dressed in brave man's costume. A costume, that's all it was.

And now, that costume has been stripped and burned in a fire. Burned to ashes. Ashes that fly when the wind blows through them. All that stands behind the costume is a coward. Is me.

But I am tired of being me. I am tired of being the coward. I want to be brave for once in my petty little excuse of a life. I want to do something meaningful; to show that Luna and my sister's deaths were not in vain. I will stand up...

...and destroy the person who destroyed me.

"Tal," I say out loud, not caring if anyone hears me. "you'd better watch your back. Because I'm coming for you."

Layla Roberts, District 4 POV

My eyes focus on the flowing river, waiting. My grip adjusts on my handmade spear, waiting. I keep my breaths shallow, waiting. And I wait.

Then. without so much as a ripple for a warning, a fish darts past. Its pale blue scales shimmering in the light and reflecting into my staring eyes. The streamlined shape of its body helps it to swim quickly and dodge any obstacles as it skims down the river. Pretty amazing how adapted the fish is to its environment. If only I was the same; but I'm getting there, I'm learning how the forest works.

The fish moves so swiftly and speedily, but not too quick for me. As soon as the fish swims past where I crouch, my arm shoots out and spears the fish like a javelin piercing soft ground. I pull the spear back out and hold it in front of me; the fish isn't dead yet, its tail flaps uselessly as it struggles to free itself. I wait for a few moments until the fish finally stops trying and flops still, dead. I yank it off the point of the spear and toss it on top of the other two fish I have caught today.

Laying the spear on the ground beside the pile of fish, I dip my hands into the cool water and splash it over my face, rinsing away the sweat that has gathered on my skin. It's refreshing and I even take a quick gulp of the water from my hands, before refilling my flask.

My backpack is small, so it's a squeeze to fit in the three fish as well as the flask of water, but I just manage to close it up without it popping open again. Sliding my arms into the straps, I adjust the tightness and rise to my feet, shaking off the fragments of leaves that have stuck to my boots.

Now, back home. And by home, I mean the cave. I like to call it home because it's the closest thing I have to a home and even back in District Four I still didn't have a home. Not a proper one anyway.

I know the way back by heart now; I could probably find my way back to the cave with my eyes shut from here, but I'd rather keep them open as I'm not particularly fond of not being able to see. I would make a terrible blind person.

As I walk, I notice that I can hear my steps quite loudly. I'm quite agile and light on my feet, so this is a strange occurrence. I stop walking, listening out. It's now that I realise how quiet the forest is today. Oddly quiet. It's been like that pretty much all day, or when I've been out anyway. Oh, except for that canon a few hours ago, that was pretty loud. I wonder who died? I'm losing track of how many of us are left now, Phosphorus was the one who remembered stuff like that. But he isn't here now, is he? Maybe that's the reason everything seems quieter. I know he wasn't the loudest of boys, but now that he is gone, I can really notice his absence.

I start to walk again. I'd best get a fire started soon and cook this fish before the fish start to stink and also before it gets dark. Fire is a lot more noticeable in the dark and I don't want to get in a fight for my life tonight. Nor any time soon really.

Following the river down, I spot the large tree that is shaped like an arrow at the top and turn left. I walk down through the narrow space between two rows of trees until I meet the patch of low hanging vines. Pushing them aside, I cut a path through them and walk on. The cave is just after this bit.

Now standing in front of the cave's entrance, I notice just how precise Phosphorus was in hiding it. He was right about the different thicknesses of the plants to throw over and how in a forest like this, the same type of plant doesn't all just grow in one place and that in a section of forest there are many different kinds of plant. I wouldn't have known that. I would have just placed one chunk of the same plant over the entrance and most probably had the cave be discovered by someone else.

I stop looking at the camouflaging cave and walk up to the plants, brushing a curtain of leaves out my way and stepping into the cave. The leaves fall back perfectly in place behind me, but I'm not plunged into darkness; there are plenty of natural looking gaps in the green curtain that allow enough sunlight in to make sure I am able to see clearly inside.

Once halfway into the cave, I dump my backpack on the floor and head to the back of the cave where my supply of dry firewood is pushed into a corner. I choose two large broken branches to build the fire with, as well as the two pebbles I use to start the fire.

Setting the wood on the ground near the entrance of the cave so that the smoke drifts outwards and not into the cave, I sit down. My feet are a little achy; I'll take off my boots in a minute.

I take the two pebbles in hand start scratching them sharply together until a small spark is created. I hold the pebbles close to the wood so that when a second, larger spark comes, it leaps straight onto the wood and catches fire. The flames at first are small, so tiny that I could put them out with a finger, but after blowing onto them and moving the wood around, the flames grow to a decent enough size to cook the fish.

Picking up the three fish, I push them all onto a stick I sharpened last night and hold them over the fire. The flames lick at the sky blue scales, turning them darker and darker until they eventually stay a dull browned colour that signifies that the fish is ready to be eaten.

I don't bother to cut up the fish, I abandoned manners a long time ago, I simply tear chunks out of it with my teeth and chew solidly before swallowing. It tastes alright really, a little bland, but alright. As far as meals go in the Hunger Games, this is pretty good.

Once I have eaten all three of the small fish, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and sigh. Now is the perfect time for a quick nap; I'm quite tired today.

Using only a tiny splash of the water from my flask as not to waste much, I put out the fire and kick the burned wood aside. I'll deal with it later. Then, I crawl to the back of the cave and settle myself on my side, letting my eyes just drop closed. And I wait, until I eventually fall asleep.

Something feels damp on my legs. I wake up suddenly, jolting up and hitting my head on the rock wall of the cave. But I don't have time to curse under my breath at the pain, because I'm already cursing at something else. Water.

Murky, dirty looking water has seeped into the cave. It swamps the floor by about five inches, covering most of my legs. Inside, the cave stinks of damp and I almost gag at the odour. I stare down at my drowning legs and see that the water is rising rapidly; already has the water begun to climb up my waist, nearing bellybutton height.

"Shit." I say out loud, stumbling to get to my feet and once more, whacking my skull on the rock in the process. I reach a hand to the back of my head and my scalp stings at the touch. When I look at my hand, it is stained with a small smear of blood. Great, so now not only am I at risk of drowning, but I could possibly bleed to death also. So much for the nice nap.

The water that has soaked into my trousers makes them heavy. I try to wade through the water, but I end up trudging at snails pace and at every other second I'm nearly face first into the water. Standing, the water level reaches my knees. It's cold and wet and feels rather unpleasant.

As I make my slow way to the cave exit, also the cave entrance, I see the wood I used in the fire drift by, bobbing up and down in the gentle movement of the water. My backpack floats by next and I snatch it up quickly, hauling the soaking wet bag over my shoulders and feeling the water soak through to the skin of my back. It sends a shiver down my spine. Just as I reach the entrance/exit of the cave, I suddenly remember Phosphorus' crossbow. It wasn't crushed under the tree in the fire, unlike him... Anyways, I couldn't always carry it around with me, so I shoved it in a sort of shelving in the outside of the cave, right by the entrance. As I leave the cave, with the water now up to my waist, I make a grab for the crossbow and manage to secure it in my hand.

Outside of the cave, water gushes everywhere and in every direction. The current is so strong that I feel my feet being tugged at by an invisible force. My free hand grasps onto a tree root that grows on the surface of the cave; I cling on. But after only a few seconds, the current proves to strong and myself too weak, and I'm pulled with it.

My feet no longer touch the ground. I am on my back. My head is far below the surface. Chunks of trees, rocks and all kinds of things found in the forest swim past me, before being pulled off in another direction by another current. My eyes sting, but I keep them open, it's my only way of knowing which way the surface is.

I cannot hold my breath for long and very quickly I feel a burning sensation in my lungs. They cry out for oxygen; oxygen that I can't reach. My limbs begin to move uncontrollably, flailing under the physical pressure of the water. I try to swim up to the surface, but I'm held down and all I can do is try to keep alive.

I'm panicking now. All I can see is a blur; everything runs into each other. My head spins and my stomach tosses. My arms and legs are tired, but I keep going. I keep going and going, turning my arms in circles and kicking my legs as hard and as fast as humanly possible. I know how to swim, but right now, I'm starting to forget.

Kick legs, circle arms. Kick legs, circle arms. Kick legs, circle arms. Kick legs, circle arms.

"Kick legs, circle arms." I say, but this time I really say it, not just a drill in my mind, but real words. My head has come above the surface.

I gulp down the oxygen like I have never breathed before and each breath scorches my throat like hot sand, painful and dry. My heart pounds and still my head spins round and round. I feel my head going under again.

Kick legs, circle arms.

I come up spluttering to the surface, water spraying from my mouth like a dodgy fountain. Below the surface of the water, my legs burn with exhaustion. Every muscle in my body is fatigued and I know I can't keep myself afloat for much longer. I need land, but I can't see any. The water still carries me, but I'm on a slower current now. If only I could find somewhere out of the reach of the water, then I could perhaps stay alive.

What would Phosphorus do? Climb a tree. Then again, that's what he'd do in response to pretty much any scenario...except maybe not if a swarm of men with chainsaws was the problem.

My eyes scan around quickly, looking for a tree that stands above the water. There aren't many, as the water levels are ridiculously high now, but there are a few and one looks to be in the path that I'm being pulled along.

I focus my eyes on the tree, as well as keeping myself above the water. The tree looms ahead, the top of it reaching a fair distance above the water, maybe about 6 foot above. And as the current carries me past the tree, I shoot out my arms and grab hold of the nearest branch. It's a struggle, but only through sheer determination do I succeed to hauling my body out of the water and onto the tree.

I gasp, my body well and truly exhausted. My muscles feel torn and destroyed; my skin so wet that I look like a pale prune; and I feel totally drained and halfway to death. And with everything I have left inside me, I climb to the top of the tree and wrap my tired arms around the trunk, holding on like I'm going to be here forever.

Guthrie Zython, District 8 POV

The air smells of burnt wood and damp fur as I roast the crappy pieces of meat over the dwindling fire. There isn't much to eat tonight; we tried catching some fish to go with the meat we had left over from yesterday, but fishing is easier said than done. And also, Rhea had gone off somewhere, which only left Heidi and myself. So tonight, we'll be hungry.

"Sorry about the miniature portion. "I apologise to Heidi, passing her a share of the meat. "I hope it'll be enough to keep you alive until we get more food."

"Thanks." Heidi says, taking the meat. "It's fine, we can hunt more tomorrow."

I take the next share of meat and shout over to Rhea, who is sitting in a corner with her knees drawn up to her chest and her long red hair falling across her face. "Hey Rhea! Dinner's cooked!"

She looks up for a moment, then shakes her head and mumbles, "Not hungry, tah."

"You sure?"

"Yup. You and Heidi have it."

I turn to Heidi and she just shrugs. Rhea has been like this all day; grumpy, quiet and absent towards us. In fact, she's been like this since Luna and Zephyr left. I know the sudden departure wasn't exactly taken well with her, but I wouldn't expect Rhea to act like this, it's so unlike her. It has really affected her and not in an easy way to deal with. She'd be easier to help if she was crying all the time, but when she has blocked herself out like this, it's difficult to get through. I haven't known her for long time, but I can tell this cold behaviour is weird.

"What do you think is up with her?" Heidi whispers quietly in my ear.

I shrug subtly, but it doesn't really matter because Rhea isn't looking to see it. "Dunno, she's been like this since Luna and Zephyr left."

"I wouldn't have thought she'd be so upset about it. Rhea always seemed like the strong one."

"I don't think she's upset." I frown. "It's more...hurt. I think she feels betrayed by them maybe."

Heidi looks at me admiringly, a small smile of wonder on her pale pink lips. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Read people so easily? It's like you know exactly what's inside their brain by looking at them. Like a wizard or something."

"A wizard?" I laugh a little. "Nah, I just like to observe body language and I dunno, it just comes easy to me."

Heidi sighs. "I wish I could be more like you..."

"And I wish I could be more like _you._"

Se smiles and looks down to her nails, all bitten from sleepless nights. I look over to Rhea; she's still slumped in the corner, as silent as ever. It's starting to both annoy and freak me out, so I stand up and walk over to her.

"Rhea." I say loudly. She looks up.

"What?" She huffs. "If you've come to counsel me, please go away."

"I'm not here to counsel you." I assure her. "I just want to-"

I stop.

"Just want to what?" Rhea snaps impatiently.

I hear it again; a distant roar, like thunder on a stormy night or thousands of drummers parading. Rhea goes to say something, then notices the sound too and stops herself.

"What's that sound?" Heidi asks nervously. "It sounds like thunder and I don't like thunder..."

"I'll look out the window." I step up bravely, going over to one of the walls with a window.

My fingers fumble on the old wooden shutters, hands shaking a little with dread and anxiety at what I will find behind the shutters. Normally thunder doesn't faze me, but this is different, much different. Who knows what the Gamemakers will throw at us?

At last the rusted bolt comes loose on the shutters and I pull them open. All I see is a huge wall of white and blackish blue before a force smacks me in the face and I'm thrown backwards. My back hits the solid ground hard and when I open my mouth to yell, a wave of water gushes down my throat.

Dazed, I cough up the water and stumble to my feet. Looking around, I see the room is flooded and water is pouring through the window like a waterfall. My knees reach the surface of the water, but from there downwards my legs are drowning.

"Guthrie!" I hear Heidi scream my name and I spin around. She wades through the water towards me, holding one of the bags above waist level.

"We need to get out of here!" Heidi shouts over the sound of the rushing water. "Where's Rhea?"

"Over here!" I hear Rhea shout back and I spot her by the other window which is letting in less water than the other. "I think we can climb out of this window and onto the roof!"

I breathe a quick sigh of relief; the old Rhea is back. Heidi reaches my side and I hold out my hand for her to take. She gives a brief smile and takes it, her hands feeling dainty in mine. Squeezing her hand tightly, I start to walk onwards. "C'mon, let's get to the window."

It takes strength to walk against the flow of the water and I have to pull Heidi along a few times to keep her from falling. When we eventually reach the window, Rhea starts to bark out orders.

"Right, Guthrie goes first - he's the strongest and can pull us up." Rhea instructs, pointing to me. "Then Heidi next because she'll freak out if she's last. And finally, myself."

"You sure about this?" I check.

"No arguing, now get on that roof before we all drown." Rhea snaps and I obey.

The ledge of the window is slippery as I step onto it, friction almost non-existent under my boot. My fingers cling tightly to the creviced low roof as I make an awkward attempt of climbing out. My foot slips a few times, but I manage to stand up straight. Gathering all my strength, I haul myself up to the roof. My legs pull up under me and I push myself onto the flat top of the roof. Thank goodness this building is one storey and has a flat roof, or we'd be in trouble.

I hear a high pitched squeal and see Heidi's head popping out of the window, followed shortly by her petite body. Her face is white and sweat clings to her skin.

I reach down my hand and wait until I feel her small hand in response.

"Hold on." I say to her and tense up my arms as I pull her up. She comes over the top easily as she's very light, and collapses beside me. I can hear her breaths panting heavily.

Letting my hand fall, I wait for Rhea. Her hand comes moments later, her grip strong, and once more, I start to pull her up. She's a little heavier than Heidi, but not by much. As her face comes into view, I see her jaw is clenched tight and her eyes are wide.

"Almost there Rhea." I say calmly to her. She nods, but barely. "Don't look down and you'll be fine."

Rhea's foot comes up beside her as she tries to speed up the process of climbing. This move takes me by surprise and my grip falters slightly. Rhea screams as she slides back, her fingers desperately scratching along the stone. With a fast reaction, I reach out and grab her wrists, hauling her back to safety with a swift tug.

"Rhea!" Heidi crawls over to her. "Are you ok?"

Rhea's voice quivers as she replies, "Not really..."

"Come and sit back here." Heidi says to Rhea, offering a hand of support. Rhea takes it, but as she crawls over, the stone roof beneath her knee falls loose and she slips. Rhea lets out a yelp as she tumbles back and disappears off the edge of the roof. I start forwards, but Heidi is already there, clutching onto one of Rhea's hands.

"Rhea, give me your other hand!" Heidi shouts over the sound of the chopping waves below.

"I...I can't." Rhea gasps, her legs flailing as they dangle down. "My hand...slipping..."

I come to the edge of the roof, kneeling beside Heidi, and hold out my hand. "Try to take my had Rhea, please try."

She sniffs, her eyes welled up with tears and then lifts up her other arm and swipes at my hand. She misses and is thrown off balance.

Both Rhea and Heidi scream as their hands slide apart. I make a grab for her, but Rhea has already fallen too far. All I can do is watch as she falls, her fiery hair streamed out around her and her face frozen until she hits the water with a smack and is pulled under almost immediately. A canon fires seconds later.

Next to me, Heidi begins to sob. I pull her to my side and hold her close. Her sobs begin to slow, until I think she has stopped crying. She lifts her head and looks to me.

"It was an instant death, wasn't it?" Heidi asks. "She felt no pain, right?"

I nod slowly. "Yeah, she would have felt nothing."

"Oh Guthrie, I miss her already."

"I do too."

"I'm glad you're here with me. I couldn't have coped alone." She says with sorrow.

I lift her chin with gentle fingers. "You're stronger than you think."

Heidi looks into my eyes, such a look of innocence for a girl who has just seen her friend die. I consider my next move; now is probably the wrong time to kiss her, but it feels right to me. So I kiss her. And she kisses back, softly.

As we draw apart, she links her fingers into mine and we both look at the indigo sky. The moon is bright, casting a spotlight on the rooftop.

"To Rhea, who was the best friend anyone could have wanted in these Games." Heidi says.

"And who had more sense than all twenty three other tributes put together." I finish.

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**A/N- Awww, another death :( Sorry... I did warn you last chapter...I think. Rhea was quite a cool character and I apologise for killing her if you particularly liked her... and a bigger sorry to her creator... But these things happen...as we all know by now.**

**Ok, so thoughts? What do you think about Zephyr going on the hunt for Tal, if they come head-to-head, who will win? And what will happen to Layla, stuck up a tree in the middle of the forest where people may see her... Finally, Guthrie and Heidi! Do you think they make a good couple, or was their kiss just out of the sadness of the moment? Only time (and reading) will tell!**

**So thank you all for reading and please send in reviews if you wish :D I haven't heard from you in a short while, so maybe a few (or more) reviews will be nice to let me know that you're still enjoying it (if you are..that is). Next chapter will be an outside one, so get ready for more sadness :(**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	33. Outsiders: Lives Can't Be Chosen

**A/N- Greetings everyone! Sorry for the late update (again...), this chapter was a tough one to write and it took me a while to get into. And also, I've been busy with sorting out my collaboration and all that. Well enough blabbering let's start reading! Here is the latest outside chapter! Oh and because I haven't done one in a while, here is a disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, nor do I own most of these characters...aha, I said _most_...**

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Mrs Mulberry (Luna's neighbour/employer) POV

The bluebells have stayed late this year. By now they would have cropped, bloomed and wilted, leaving the soil bare and empty for the next plant to come through. But this year they've outlasted all expectations. Yes they're a little crisp around the delicate edges of their bell shaped petals, but they still look the brightest blue I've ever seen in my garden.

"Mrs Mulberry?" A gentle tug on my skirt follows the voice.

I look down at my side and see Ivy, her pale blonde hair flowing down past her shoulders as she looks angelically up to me. I can imagine her sister, Luna, to have looked like Ivy at this age.

"What is it Ivy?" I ask her.

In her small hands she holds out a white ribbon, frayed at the edges. "Could you do my hair, please?"

I smile down at her warmly. "Of course my dear."

Ivy goes and kneels on the floor in front of my armchair. I walk over and sit on the chair, Ivy's head just reaching above my knees so that her hair can rest on my thighs.

I begin by combing her hair slowly, allowing each wavy lock to be combed until it glimmers. Once all of her hair is brushed thoroughly, I split it into three equal sections and start to plait it. My fingers glide easily with the hair, like they've plaited a thousand times before. Well they have, I suppose, when I was younger I used to plait my hair every day and tie it with what ever piece of string or ribbon I could find. My own mother had arthritis in her hands from a young age, so she could never do my hair and my father wasn't too good with handling things softer than a hoe or sickle. So I had to do my hair myself.

"There we go, all done." I announce, fastening the ribbon in a tight bow at the end of the golden plait.

Ivy jumps to her feet and rushes over to the mirror, admiring her reflection. "Wow! It looks exactly like how Luna does my hair!"

I smile at her, but I feel my chest tightening. Luna died yesterday, but I am yet to tell Ivy. I don't allow her to watch the Games, only the tribute parade when she could see Luna all dressed up and I'm presuming Luna never let her watch them either. I only found out about Luna's death when I went to the market and someone gave me the news. I asked for no further details, but people whispered and I ended up finding out that she was killed by a Career boy. Poor girl, she was such a lovely soul and with the hard life she had with no family but Ivy, she didn't deserve to die in that way. Actually, she didn't deserve to die at all.

"Mrs Mulberry?"

"Yes Ivy?"

"There's a woman at the door."

I quickly rise to my feet and walk over to the door. I didn't hear anyone knocking.

"Hello." I say as I open the front door. Behind it, stands Edna, a widower of the District and a very nosey woman who always pokes her nose into other's businesses. I'm not very fond of Edna, but I feel bad for her losing her husband , so I act civil with her.

"Edna, what can I do for you?" I ask the old woman politely.

"Actually, it was something I could do for you." Edna replies. "Is the Damion girl still with you?"

I nod. "Yes, Ivy is still with me. "

"This...arrangement is just temporary, isn't it?"

I shake my head. "Well, actually, it may be more permanent now that Luna won't be..erm, you know."

Edna bites her lower, prune-like lip and speaks in her I-know-better-than-you-peasants voice that I despise so much. "I'm afraid I don't agree with you, Mrs Mulberry. The girl is of no relation to yourself at all and I don't think that a girl of such a young age should be in the care of someone of your..erm..."

"What, of my _age_? Is that what you're trying to tell me, Edna?" I demand. "You're not quite so young yourself. In fact, with that wrinkled-to-high-heaven of a face, you add ten years onto yourself!"

Edna looks taken aback, surprising at my outburst. Normally I'm a well mannered and calm woman, despite those situations when I want to throttle someone. But I will not just stand here and let Edna poke her nose into my business. It's about time someone knocked her off her high horse.

"Mrs Mulberry, I didn't mean to say you were incapable or any such thing..." Edna tries. "It's just that I don't think it's a wise decision to be taking on a four year old girl at this time of your life."

"No," I step towards her. "you mean to say that you think I am incapable of raising a child because I have no experience as I could have no children of my own. That is what you mean to say and I don't want to hear it. Now leave before I say something I will later regret."

Edna is startled, but backs away anyway. "Mrs Mulberry..."

"Don't _Mrs Mulberry_ me Edna!" I pick up the broom by the side of the door and start to wave it at Edna. "I said leave!"

"I just have the girl's best interests at heart!" Edna shouts down the pathway. "I only want what's best for her now that isn't coming back!"

"You're simply a nosey old bat who likes to poke her nose into everyone's business, but I won't let you interfere with mine! I'll shove that nose where the sun don't shine!" I keep shooing her with the broom until she scarpers off, probably on her way to tell everyone in the District what a wild lunatic I am. Well she can ay what she likes for all I care. I am done with Edna and I'm done with everyone trying to dictate my life.

I feel a small tug on my skirt. "Mrs Mulberry?"

"Oh Ivy, come into the lounge dear." I usher Ivy away from the door and close it shut, leaving the broom leaning against the wall beside it.

"Are you thirsty, Ivy?" I ask, walking over to the kitchen. "I can get you a drink."

"What did that lady mean?"

"Mean about what, dear?"

"She said about my sister not coming back."

I pause and close the cupboard that I had opened to get out a glass. Slowly, I turn around and face Ivy. Her brown eyes stare at mine, waiting for an answer. I sigh, realising that I have to tell her about Luna. This isn't the way I wanted to tell her, darn that Edna with her loud mouth, but she would have to find out anyway.

"Sit down Ivy, there is something I need to tell you." I say to her and she nods, climbing onto a chair. I pull my own armchair in front of her and sit down. bending forwards so that I reach her height. "You know how your big sister went away a few weeks ago?"

Ivy nods. "When they called her name on that stage?"

"Yes, that day. Remember when we watched her on the TV all dressed up on the chariot with the other girls and boys?"

"She looked pretty."

"Exactly. She looked so pretty that the judges chose her to go and live in a special house in the sky with all the other pretty girls and handsome boys." It hurts to lie, but this is the easiest way to tell her. When she's older and understands the Games, I shall tell her the truth. But for now, she'll have to believe in the magical place in the sky with all the pretty dresses and tiaras.

Ivy frowns for a moment and I almost think that she doubts my story, until she speaks. "Am I pretty enough to go to the magic house in the sky?"

I smile and tickle her under the chin, where her skin is so soft like velvet. "You're the prettiest of them all and I'm sure that one day, you'll join your sister and will spend all day wearing all the pretty dresses you want."

"Mrs Mulberry?" Ivy says.

"Yes, Ivy?"

"Can I weed the garden like Luna used to?"

"As long as you don't mind your pretty fingers getting dirty."

Ivy giggles and slides off the chair, running to the front door. I follow behind her as she opens the door and runs out, skipping along the path in the afternoon sunshine. I wait in the doorway for a moment and just watch her and the swinging golden plait that flies behind her. I may be getting old, but Ivy has her whole life ahead of her. And I'm going to make sure that it's the best she could ever have hoped for. That's what Luna wanted and that's what I promised her.

Jamar Kanning (Guthrie's best friend) POV

Life is not easy at the moment. Nor has it been for months now. How many months has it been? Three, four, five? I've lost count. Each month just feels like one huge continuous pattern of light and dark hours, of being awake and being awake some more, of doing the same things over and over. There aren't days anymore; I can't distinguish between yesterday and last week. Every day seems the same as the last. One giant cycle and every time I get near the top, I just fall back down again.

"Ouch." The knife I'm using to slice up the vegetables cuts into my finger. I lift my hand quickly from the kitchen counter before the blood gets on the food and I rush over to the sink. The tap takes a few seconds to work, but fairly soon, little trickles of cold water drip out. My finger stings as the cool liquid swamps the wound.

I glance up at the old clock behind me. Its battered wooden frame matches the peeling walls on which it hangs upon and the rusty hands show that the time now is three-fifteen. I curse under my breath; the soup was supposed to be ready fifteen minutes ago.

Abandoning the sink, I rapidly wrap a torn piece of rough tissue around my finger and dash back to the almost finished vegetables. Grabbing the knife, I quickly finish slicing the remaining assortments of veg and toss them in the pan of boiling water that hangs low over the orange fire. Giving it all a quick stir, I take out a bowl from the cupboard and place the teapot filled with steaming nettle tea onto a tray. A tray with an ugly brown stain in the corner where I was too clumsy and split some soup.

After a few minutes, I decide that the soup is cooked enough and take the pan off the fire. Steam burns my wrists as I pour a serving of the dull soup into the chipped bowl. There is still another serving or two left in the pan, so I'll save it for tea tonight, I'll just reheat it.

"Coming Mom!" I shout out as I carry the tray out the kitchen and to the back of the house where the bedrooms are situated. Mom's is the closest to the kitchen so that I can quickly bring things to and from her room as and when she needs them.

I hear her coughing as I knock lightly on the door, careful not to unbalance the tray of soup and tea.

"Come...in." She says weakly through her wheezy coughs.

I push the door open with my foot and slide into the room. Mom lies on her back in her bed, the blankets pulled up to her chin and her face popping out just above them. If you just took a quick glance, you could mistake her for a small child tucked up in bed in the middle of winter. But she's not a child, she's my mother, and it is certainly not winter.

"Mom, it's too hot in here. Let me open the window a little." I say, placing the tray on the chest of drawers.

"Ok, just a little." She replies as I unbolt the window and push it ajar. A small and gentle breeze flows through the gap and almost instantly cools the stuffy room.

"There, that's much better." I announce. "We need to control your temperature as best as we can. The doctor said it's too easy for you to get either too hot or too cold."

Mom has been ill for quite a few months now. It started when she began to wake up with constant headaches and would often stumble around the house, claiming to have dizzy spells. Me and my Dad were concerned, as Mom was hardly ever ill, so we went straight to the doctor. The District doesn't have many doctors, with it specialising in textiles, but there are a few decent ones in the main town. But as of the large population in District Eight and there only being a few good doctors, it was quite expensive to have one come and help Mom. Luckily, the doctor who came told us we needn't pay for the visit, so we were ok.

After several home visits, Mom was diagnosed with a form of something that escapes my memory; it was some disease thing that consisted of about a hundred letters and ended in _itis_. Anyways, he basically said it was a mutant version of the flu and that she had probably caught it from working in the factory. Gradually, she got worse. Every day she seemed to deteriorate until she was confined to days in her bed, just like now. At first the doctor said she wouldn't last longer than two months, but she's still here after about five, but that's only because Dad is working every hour God sends him to earn enough money to keep buying her the medicine she needs so desperately, which has left me with the role of her full-time carer.

"Here's your soup." I say to Mom, who is now sitting up in bed and leaning weakly against the headboard. "It isn't too hot; I checked the temperature so you should be able to eat it straight away."

She thanks me and takes the soup, her hand shaking slightly as she lifts the spoon to her thin lips.

"Here Mom, let me help." I go to take the spoon, but she shakes her head.

"No, please Jamar, let me do it by myself." She pleads. "I don't want to be completely useless, at least let me feed myself. Please."

Sighing, I nod and step back. "Ok, sorry. I'll let you eat then. Just call me if you need anything else."

She gives me a small smile as I leave the room, closing the door not completely shut, just in case. Even if she doesn't call me, I'll check on her soon.

Now, with spare time to myself, something I have quite rarely, I decide what to do. I choose to go to the lounge and watch the Hunger Games. Usually, I'm not interested in the Games, I think they're disgusting and Mom refused to have them playing in the house when she wasn't ill, but this year, I've been watching them whenever I can.

I find the switch on the projector and the wall opposite lights up with images of the Games. I'm glad we don't have a proper TV like some of the others do in the District; one wouldn't fit in this tiny house and also, I'd probably end up smashing the screen accidentally...or maybe not so accidentally... This way, if I was to be clumsy and fall, I would simply crash into the wall and no damage would be done. Except maybe to myself.

Settling myself on the flattened sofa, I watch the wall. Currently, the two hosts, Morgana Volptura and Vaughn Redkill are discussing the recent arena event. Apparently, the Gamemakers have thrown out a huge wave of water to flood the arena.

"So far, most of the tributes have found high ground." Morgana reports. "The Career pack are seen to be sitting on the top of the Cornucopia right now; others up high trees in the forest, but one particular alliance is seen to be having problems..."

The image changes from the host panel to the arena, a camera angled above the roof of one of the village buildings. I lean forwards in interest.

Sitting on the roof is Guthrie and his ally, Heidi. I frown, looking for the third party member and then spot her, dangling off the edge of the roof. Guthrie and Heidi are both grasping out for her, but I can see from this angle that it is useless and her grip is failing. And sure enough, I'm proved correct, and the girl falls into the rushing water below.

At that moment, the front door swings open. And by the front door, I mean the door in my house, not in the arena.

"Jamar!" I hear the high pitched voice of Penelope, Guthrie's wild ex-girlfriend. Oh joy. Since Guthrie left for the Games, Penelope has redirected her stalking from Guthrie to me. "The door was unlocked!"

I scowl. I bet it wasn't. She probably picked the lock or something.

"Hey, what's with the face?" She asks, walking over to me. "Be happy, I'm here now."

"Um, not to sound rude, but... what the hell are you doing in my house?"

She giggles, one of her annoying habits. "Oh, I thought we could watch the Games together."

And without even waiting for approval, she plonks her round bottom onto the sofa next to me. Too next to me. I shuffle a few inches to the left.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Penelope digs into her canvas bag and pulls out two bundles of material. "I made us t-shirts."

"T-shirts?"

She nods and holds one up. "Team Guthrie t-shirts." I stare at the shirt. It's plain white, but sewn wobbly onto the front are scrap pieces of different coloured material spelling out the words 'Team Guthrie'.

"Erm..." I look at the shirt. "I'm not really sure what to say..."

"Aww, you're speechless! I knew you'd love them!" Penelope exclaims and throws one of the t-shirts at me. "This one is yours; I wasn't sure of your size, so I got the size down from Guthrie. You're skinnier than he is,"

I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not, in fact, I'm not sure what to think at all. I'm quite bemused actually; this girl is seriously mental. Team Guthrie t-shirts? Really? And from her behaviour, this won't be the last of it. I wouldn't be surprised if she started giving them out to everyone in the whole District.

Now wearing the t-shirt, which is a little on the tight side as it seems that I'm not that much skinnier than Guthrie, I look to Penelope. She too is wearing her t-shirt and squeals with excitement at seeing me in mine.

"Ooh, it looks perfect!" She smiles with pride. "Now, let's put them to use and watch our dearest Guthrie."

Saying this, she turns her body and starts to watch the projection on the wall. Currently, the cameras are showing the Career pack camping out on the top of the Cornucopia, away from the gently waving water below. The flood has calmed now, but shows no sign of draining away any time soon. One of the two girls, the smaller one, is complaining about being bored. I roll my eyes; she's complaining about being bored when someone else has just died, at least she's still actually alive! Some Careers don't know how lucky they are sometimes.

Soon, the cameras switch to Guthrie and Heidi. I start to wonder where their other ally is, then I remember that she just died...

"Hey, where is the other girl?" Penelope asks. "The red head?"

"She died." I tell her. "Fell off the roof about five minutes ago, just before you arrived."

"Oh, shame." She looks sad for a moment, then suddenly perks up, "At least Guthrie's still alive!"

I nod in agreement. I can't imagine what would happen if Guthrie died. I mean, I know it's a huge possibility seeing that he's up against so many others, but I just can't imagine him dying. I don't think his death would sink in properly, even now I keep expecting him to bump into me down the street, or come to my house, begging me to let him hide there until Penelope gave up looking for him. On occasions, when I haven't been thinking straight, I'd walk over to his house to see if he wanted to have a kick around outside, but then when I'd get to the door, I'd suddenly realise that he wasn't there. And then that hollow feeling would appear in my stomach again, sort of like it is now.

A sudden shriek grabs my attention. I look in shock over to Penelope. Her face is bright pink and she has leapt up from the sofa, leaving behind a small dint in the sofa where she was sitting.

"What the hell, Penelope!" I exclaim. "What on earth is with you?"

"Guthrie!" She screams and points a long finger at the projection.

I look over, expecting him to be injured or dangling off the rooftop, but he isn't. I breath a silent sigh of relief. However, Penelope doesn't seem too happy.

"What?" I ask her.

"Guthrie was...that girl, Heidi...they were..._kissing_!"

I raise my eyebrows. "And?"

Penelope explodes. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, AND? GUTHRIE IS KISSING THAT BITCH!"

"She's hardly a-"

"Why would he do such a thing?!" She continues.

"Because he likes her?" I offer and she gives me a death glare.

"But what about _me_?!"

"What about you?"

"Guthrie is supposed to love me!" Penelope practically yells down my ears. "He told me at the goodbyes."

My jaw drops. "He said _what_?"

"Well..." She starts to twiddle her fingers. "He didn't actually say that he loved me exactly...not in those words...but I know he secretly meant it."

"But Penelope-"

"But he _lied _to me!" Her quietness suddenly evaporates and the rage returns. "He's a stupid, idiot, lying bastard and I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!"

I watch in both shock and awe as Penelope yanks her t-shirt over her head and starts to tear it up into strips, stamping on it as it piles up on the floor. Once all the t-shirt is torn to tiny scraps, she screams once more and storms out the house, not seeming to realise that she is only wearing a bra...

"Wow, Guthrie." I sink back into the sofa. "You sure know how to pick 'em."

Conan Blakemore (Rhea's twin brother) POV

There are days when I just want to stay in bed. All day. Stay curled up or sprawled out or whatever position I deem comfortable; asleep or awake under the layers of scratchy blankets and dust mites. With my head lolled to the side resting on the flat, empty space where a pillow should be. I may not have the most lavish of beds, nor the most comfortable, but some days I would still rather stay in mine than face the world.

Grunting, I roll over on my side. With my eyes open, I stare at the empty bed beside me and try to ignore the dull ache in my stomach.

I'm not the only one in the room; Willow is in here too, probably still asleep in her bed. But even with her in here, even when she's moving around loudly, it feels empty. Like the room has lost a wall, or there's a giant hole gaping in the ceiling above our heads. Every word said echoes around, bouncing from cracking wall to cracking wall. And the cobwebs that stick to the wooden beams above catch the words and hold them forever.

I hear a small whimper from across the room, probably Willow having another bad dream or something. She's been having a lot of those lately, bad dreams. She never used to suffer as much, only getting the occasional one here and there, but since Rhea was reaped, Willow has had one almost every night, often the same one repeated. I worry for her, as she's my little sister and all, I don't want this to last much longer. However, if Rhea was to...erm, die, then I'm afraid for how that will affect Willow.

There's another quiet whimpering sound and this time, I sit up in bed and look across to Willow's bed. Her body is still, apart from the steady rising and falling of her breathing and she doesn't seem restless at all. Maybe she isn't having a nightmare.

Deciding I can't sleep anymore, I slide my legs out of bed and get up. The wooden floor feels hard under my feet and as I walk over to grab a shirt, I stand on a loose nail. Pain darts up my foot and I curse silently. A small droplet of blood remains on the floorboard and I quickly wipe it away with my other foot, leaving a barely visible smear. I put my only pair of shoes on to keep my foot from standing on anything else and walk over to Willow's bed. Leaning over, I cast a small shadow across her cheek. She's still asleep and the whimpering has stopped, so I think she's ok.

I leave Willow to sleep and leave the room. Our house isn't very big, only consisting of three rooms; the bedroom which we all share, the lounge/kitchen/diner and the bathroom. And each room itself is bare. The bedroom is one square, with peeling walls and wooden frames with a few old blankets tossed on the top for beds, and one, wonky chest of drawers to share. The bathroom isn't very hygienic for a bathroom; one large metal tub, a bleak towel with several holes in it and a sponge that is probably older than Willow. And finally, the lounge/kitchen/diner is exactly that. One plain room with an old table and three chairs, a fire place with a large pot to cook stuff in and a moth eaten sofa.

When our parents died four years ago, we were forced to sell most of the furniture in the house. People thought we would move into the orphanage in the District, but that was not the place we wanted to be. Rhea was even stubborn then, so we decided that we could live, just the three of us, and we'd be able to survive. It was easier at first, many people would give us things out of pity, but soon later, they forgot about us and we had to fend for ourselves. Rhea and I had to grow up a lot faster than we should have, but we needed to be like parents to Willow, who was only six at the time. It was horrible for the first year or so, but after that I got used to being the man of the house and I sort of liked being more than just an older brother to Willow, but like a father. However, Rhea on the other hand hated the responsibility of caring for Willow. She didn't say anything, never a word about it, but I know that she would have preferred life if it was just us two and Willow was in the care of someone else. I never told her I knew.

In the lounge/kitchen/diner, I walk over to the pot that hangs above the fire and tilt it towards me. Peering inside, I can see the remains of yesterday's supper, a grey pile of mush. And boy does it stink.

Pinching my nose to avoid the smell, I unhook the pot and carry it to the front door and kick it open. I walk a few paces outside and then toss the grey mush into the nearest bush. I return to the inside.

When I'm back inside, I spot Willow standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Her brown hair is knotted and pulled to the side, tied roughly with a piece of string. Under her eyes I can see pink, a little puffy from where she must have been crying, although by seeing that her eyes aren't bloodshot, I can tell she must have cried in her sleep a while ago.

"Sleep well?" I ask her, hooking the pot back over the fireplace.

She shakes her head. "Not really. Had another nightmare."

"The same one as before?"

She nods. "Only this time, you weren't there."

"I wasn't?"

"No, you were off with some girl somewhere. You told me you wouldn't be long, that she was just a friend, but then you were long and didn't come back and..." She sniffs. "..and the dream carried on but you weren't there to try to save me."

I sigh and walk over to her. "Here, I'm here now. Give me a hug."

Willow sniffs again, but takes my offer and cuddles up against my chest. I wrap my arms around her small frame and hold her for a few minutes, my hand stroking through her tussled hair. Willow didn't gain many of Mom's genes like Rhea did. Mom had hair so red it could be seen in the next District and hair so straight it could cut your finger and Rhea had the same. However, Willow and I got our mud brown hair from our Dad. And I never saw it until Mom had gone, but Rhea was like a younger copy of her. So now I have lost my reminder of her.

I pull back from Willow. "Hey, are you hungry?"

She nods. "A little.."

I shrug. "Well we've ran out of food, unless you want grey mush then feel free to scoop it out of the plants outside. Or, if you want something a little fresher, then get your clothes and shoes on and lets get going."

Willow nods and runs back into the bedroom, yanking open her drawer in the chest and rooting through her limited belongings until she finds some clothes to wear. I close over the door and let her get dressed in private. Willow isn't really bothered about being seen naked, as she is the youngest and we've all seen her when she was a baby. However, I'd prefer to give her privacy and even when we were younger, I made sure Rhea bathed Willow.

A few minutes later, the door swings open and Willow comes into the room. I stand and go over to the front door, letting Willow out and then closing it behind us. We don't have a key, since there is no lock anymore and also, no-one comes to this part of the District, it's right on the edge and the nearest houses are about half a mile away.

"So, what do you fancy this morning?" I ask Willow as we walk along. "Bread, fruit, eggs?"

Willow considers for a moment and then replies, "Scrambled eggs with a slice of crusty bread."

"Scrambled eggs and crusty bread it is then." I grin to her.

We walk the rest of the way without speaking. Usually, if Rhea was here she would be going through the plans of how to obtain our desired foods. She always liked to plan ahead and was very organised. With Rhea, we would never get caught.

Willow and I eventually arrive in the main village. Here, houses are in abundance and surround the centre square. In the mornings, a farmers market is held and all the farmers from the farms around the District come and sell their products. District Ten specialises in livestock, so the market is always a good place for variety; with all different meats, milk, eggs and cheese, not to mention the leather and wool and once a month there is even an auction of animals. Rhea always said she wanted a chicken or two, so we could sell the eggs and keep the spares for ourselves. And then in winter, when the chickens were nearing their ends, we would kill them and have a roasted feast. But of course, we never got those chickens.

As usual, the market is packed. Perfect. Being only fourteen, I'm often considered too young and too weak to work out on the farms. Most of the boys my age who do work on the farms only have their jobs because their parents own the farm. I've tried to get a job, but all the farmers reject me, preferring the older and stronger nineteen year olds who don't have the worry about being reaped for the Hunger Games. Farmers don't seem to like taking risks here. So because of my lack of money, we're forced to steal for our survival. Yeah, I'd rather not be a thief, but it's either nicking the occasional loaf of bread or die.

"Right, I'll get the bread and you can get the eggs because you're hands are much more gentle than mine. Don't take too many, we don't want to get noticed. And when you've got them, I'll meet you in the alley next to the house with the flower baskets, ok?" I explain to Willow.

She nods. "I bet I'll be back before you." And she sprints off into the crowd, disappearing almost instantly. I suppose she does have a bit of Rhea inside her.

Not wasting any more time, I start to walk into the bustle of the market. People shove past, eager to get the best of everything and many of them shout across to each other, haggling for lower prices. It's the same as usual, the loud and busy atmosphere. This is what makes the stealing quite an easy task.

I approach the bakery stall, the smell of freshly baked bread filling my nostrils and making my mouth water slightly. A fairly large group of people surround the stall, yelling their orders and haggling with the seller. I sneak around the crowd, peeping between arms and bodies when I can to get a good look at the stall. When I do see the stall, I see mounds and mounds of pastries, breads and cakes. I swear I can see steam rising from some of the loaves. They all look delicious.

A woman in front moves to the side and I spot my chance. Quick as an arrow released from a bow, I dart forwards through the gap in the people and shoot out my hand. My fingers slap the edge of a loaf of bread and it topples from the table, landing in my other hand comfortably. I shove the loaf under my arm and start to run.

"Hey, wait!" I hear someone exclaim. "That boy's a thief! He took that loaf when you weren't looking!"

I don't glance behind me, that will only bring attention to myself.

"Stop that boy! Thief! Thief!" Another person joins in and I can hear the stall owner shouting himself.

My breathing gets heavier as I sprint along the ground. Behind me, shouts echo and the people at the stall are clearly spreading the news that I'm a thief. This has happened before though and I've never been caught, so I should be fine.

My feet ache as they hit the ground hard and solid, my ankles straining. Shouts continue behind me and I keep running and running. People start to cluster before me and I try to dodge the crowds, occasionally bumping shoulders with someone and receiving a yell in return. And still, the shouts of thief continue.

I spot the house with the flower baskets, the one with the alley where I'm supposed to be meeting Willow. I can't see her at the moment, I hope she's all right.

Almost at the alley, I spot Willow. She's leaning against the wall of the house, her hands holding two eggs. She's done well. As I approach her, she looks up and notices me. I wave a hand to let her know I'm on my way, but as I raise my arm, a hand clutches around my wrist and I'm pulled to a stop.

I jerk my head and see a man holding my arm. His face is red and he looks both angry and relieved as he looks down at me.

"Got the thief!" The man shouts over to someone and I hear a small applause.

"Get off me." I snarl at the man, yanking back my arm, but his grip is too strong and I can't free my arm. "Let me go."

The man shakes his head. "You're not going anywhere sonny."

"Fine, here take the stupid bread." I snap, pushing the loaf in his face. He takes it and passes it to a woman standing nearby. Already, a crowd has started to form around us.

"Good boy, but I'm still not letting you go free." The man says. "You'll get punished for sure. No-one appreciates scum like you who steal."

This angers me further and yelling, I push back at the man. "I SAID GET OFF ME!"

The man laughs and tightens his grip around my wrist, so much that I think he's blocking the blood flow to my fingers. I struggle under his strength and make an attempt of escaping by kicking his shin with my foot. The man winces, but nothing else.

"Boy, if you know what's best for you, I'd suggest staying still until the Peacekeeper arrives to sort you out."

I freeze. Peacekeeper. He said a Peacekeeper was coming. Oh no. Oh god no. If a Peacekeeper is told about what I've done, I'm a gonner. Peacekeepers are hot on punishment and they like nothing more than seeing a young lad punished for a tiny crime. If I'm caught by a Peacekeeper then what would happen to Willow? She'll be left alone if I'm arrested and she can't survive by herself. She could end up in the same position as me...No. I can't let any of that happen.

"Please sir, don't tell the Peacekeepers." I turn to the man.

"Oh, someone has changed their tune." The man sneers. "No, you're a common thief who needs a good punishing. Why should I let you get off with it? Because your parents will give you a good smacking if you get into trouble?"

I shake my head. "I have no parents, sir. They died four years ago."

"Yeah, of course they did. And I bet your other family members died as well, did they?" The man laughs.

"I have no other family members, sir. Just two sisters." I tell the truth. "I have a ten year old sister who needs me because her other sister is in the Hunger Games and-"

"Oh spare the whole sob story, lad. I've heard this crap a thousand times before from boys like you. Think they can get away with all sorts by concocting a tragic life story."

"But it's true!" I insist. "Please sir, don't let me get arrested. My sister..."

The man goes to reply, but a cry from one of the women in the crowd stops him. She rushes forwards and looks closely at my face. "You're Conan, aren't you?"

I nod.

The woman turns to the man. "Let him go Giles. This poor boy is telling the truth. He's one of the Blakemore kids. Remember, the two twins and the younger girl. The older girl, his twin, was reaped this year and she has just died in those Games for goodness sake!"

My jaw drops. I stare at the woman, my voice trembling. "Rhea...she.._died_?"

The woman's face falls. "Oh dear, I didn't realise...I thought you knew...Rhea died last night...Oh, I'm so sorry."

The man, Giles, releases my wrist as the woman comes over and embraces me. She smells of old flowers and cakes.

"Oh you poor, poor boy." She whispers over and over again until she at last lets me go. By now, tears have welled in my eyes. I should have known Rhea was dead, I'm her twin, I should have felt _something_.

"Conan?" Willow steps from the crowd and at seeing her face, I burst into tears. Willow does the same and comes running towards me. Despite everyone watching us, we hug and cry into each other's shoulders.

I can hear some of the women muttering and sniffing. I even hear one crying. Some women are so emotional. But then again, so am I right now.

"Conan?" Willow says to me. "Are you going to be arrested now?"

I sniff and wipe under my damp eyes. Beside me, Giles taps me on the shoulder. "Nah, he's not going anywhere, don't you worry little girl. Your brother is staying right with you."

I look to him and give him a grateful smile, "Thank you sir, I'm so sorry about everything..."

"No worries." He says. "We all get into some trouble at your age." Giles takes the loaf of bread from the woman he had passed it to before and holds it out to me. "Now take your bread and go and grieve for your sister."

"But what about the money?" I ask. "I haven't got any..."

"I'll pay for it." He says and starts to wave me off. "Now go on, off with you two. Before I change my mind."

I thank him and the other woman once again before taking Willow's hand. She sniffs and smiles up at me as we walk along the road, the crowd has split to allow us to get through. And once we walk through the path of people, we break free and run all the way home, tears streaming down our faces as we remember running with Rhea.

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**A/N- Aww, these outside chapters can be upsetting to write :( But sometimes they can be happy, like Jamar's (well at the end with Penelope)... I must admit I am starting to grow towards some of these other characters...**

**Anyways, thanks for the reviews I had on the last chapter, it felt nice to know that the story is still appreciated! And please do continue to review if you wish, it's quite nice to log in and see the review count has gone up! Thank you everyone! :D**

**Next chapter we shall be returning to the arena and the aftermaths of the flood...ooh, how are the tributes feeling now? You'll have to wait and see!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	34. Walking In A Winter Wonderland

**A/N- Hello once more...Nah, I can't be bothered typing out an introduction so let's just get on with the next chapter. And we are back in the arena, whohooo!**

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Heidi Fitzherbit, District 12 POV

There's dampness on my cheek and a sticky substance on my eyes when I wake. I grumble at the unpleasant feeling and almost immediately after I do, a voice speaks.

"So the animal finally awakens."

Groggily, I wipe the sleep from my eyes and roll onto my back, looking up and seeing Guthrie grinning down at me.

"Wha you me?" I slur my words in the midst of waking. "I not animal."

Guthrie smirks, a gentle smirk, not a harsh one. "Well you don't sound like one; you speak more like a drunken old man with too many stories to tell. However, with that hairdo, you certainly look like a messed up possom."

_A messed up possom! _Offended, I go to punch his arm, but only manage a weak and pathetic tap on the arm. But it's still satisfying. "Stop being mean to me. Let me wake up before you start throwing around insults."

Still smirking, Guthrie shrugs and backs off. With a groan, I sit up and shake away the remainders of sleep from my body. I stretch out my arms above my head and when I do, a sudden chill catches my bare stomach where my t-shirt has been raised. Quick, I pull the shirt down.

"Why is it so cold this morning?" I ask rhetorically.

"Hm, I noticed that before," Guthrie says. "and then I looked down from the roof and found the source."

Frowning and curious, I crawl on my weary-from-sleep knees over to the edge of the rooftop and when I look over, I allow myself to gasp in astonishment. Sheets of powdered white spread wide along the ground, ribbons slipping and filling side streets and alleys. Glass-like spears hang from the tips of rooftops and shimmer as the early morning sun shines rays over their surfaces. And thin layers of icing sugar that coat the old sandstone buildings and settle like the scales of slippery fish. There's a cold, but bitterly sweet taste in the air and as I breath in the taste of winter, I realise how little snow I have seen in my life.

The last time it snowed, well the last time in District Twelve, I was eleven, five years ago. I remember my brother rushing into my room and shaking me awake, telling me that the first snow had come. I had, obviously, leapt out of bed and ran after him. He was my older brother after all and I did have the habit of copying him. We both ran outside, me in just my nightgown and wearing no shoes, and immediately began tossing balls of snow at each other; I even got one down Dylan's back. But then my Mom came out and dragged me back inside, telling me off for going out without shoes. She laughed later, of course, when I was sat with my feet wrapped in old blankets and was being pushed down a hill on a metal oven tray.

It didn't snow the winter after that, nor any winters since.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Guthrie admires, sitting beside me. "The way it all sits there like one continuous roll of white fabric."

I roll my eyes. _Like a roll of white fabric_, such a District Eight thing to say.

"Or one giant gathering of thousands of sheep." I say, which is probably a Ten thing to say, but nothing is really white in Twelve, most things are black or grey.

"It looks so perfect." He continues.

"Too perfect." I say, then a mischievous grin appears on my face. "But it would look a whole lot better if we played in it. Should we?"

Guthrie turns and stares at me. "Play with it? And ruin the gorgeous landscape?...I thought you'd never ask."

Rolling my eyes at his humour, I shuffle so that my legs dangle over the edge of the rooftop. Just for a second, I remember Rhea and a sick feeling twists in my gut, but I take a few breaths and I'm fine again. As I go for the jump, Guthrie's hand blocks the way.

"Wait, we need to check it's safe first." He says wisely. "This would be a great bait for the Gamemakers. Bribe tributes to their deaths with pretty snow."

"Good point." I agree and watch as he leans over and dips his jacket sleeve into the closest bit of snow and then pulls it back up again. He examines the jacket, shrugs and slips it back on.

"Well, it seems safe," He reports. "but I'll go first just to make sure."

"Ok, be careful." I say as Guthrie lowers himself down to the snow covered ground. When he hits the snow, his feet sink in almost immediately and his face looks panic-stricken.

"Oh my god, I'm sinking!" He yells out. "It's consuming my legs and I can't feel below my knees! Oh my, I'm stuck, help! Arg!"

"Guthrie!" I scream out and leap from the roof to his aid. I grab his hand and begin to try to pull him out, but then I feel my own feet plunging downwards. Oh right, I should have thought of that...

"Ah! I'm sinking too!" I cry out. "Guthrie! We're going to die! I can't feel my legs, ohh! I think the numbness is spreading up-"

Guthrie bursts into fits of laughter.

"This is not the time to be laughing, you idiot!"

Still laughing, Guthrie lifts up his feet with no effort at all and walks over to me. "Heidi, I was playing a joke on you. You're not going to die in this snow, you gullible girl. Hey, that's alliteration!"

I narrow my eyes and give him my best evil glare. "You are so horrible to me, Guthrie. You're always picking on me."

He chuckles. "Your fault for being such an easy target."

I scowl at him. "I am not an easy target..." I bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, then hurl it at Guthrie's face as hard as I can. I hear it smack as it hits the side of his face.

"Oh, so that's the way you wanna play, is it?" He challenges, taking two handfuls of snow and pelting them at me with top speed. I squeal an try to dodge them by jumping to the side, but the snow catches my feet and I end up falling splat on my face. Muffled by the snow, but still loud enough for me to hear, Guthrie laughs and laughs and laughs. And as I lift my head from the snow, I can see a blob of white on the end of my nose. I shake it off and dig my hands into the snow.

When I rise, my hands are overflowing with snow and as I step threateningly towards Guthrie, he starts to back away.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere." I snarl, edging closer and raising my hands. I then throw the snowballs and they hit him directly in the chest. _So much for a bad aim_, I would sneer to my brother if he were here. But he isn't here. And I'm playing in the snow with someone else.

Raymond Periwinkle, District 5 POV

Something hits my face. Right smack into my cheek. Cold, wet and leaving an uncomfortable stinging patch on my skin, just like the after-feeling of a slap. My eyes fly open.

With a fast reaction, my hand grabs my scimitar and I jolt up, eyes narrowed and peering all around me. Below me, I hear shrieks of evil and twisted laughter. Sighing and rolling my eyes, I loosen my shoulders and put down my weapon.

"What the hell was that?" I yell out to my allies. "It felt all cold and wet. It wasn't one of those disgusting bugs was it? Because if it was, I swear I will grab you by the neck and twist your bloody heads off."

"Ooh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." I hear Bryn say.

"Oh shut up, Bryn." I snap.

"Oh lighten up, Ray." She says. "Don't be so grumpy, it was just a snowball, geez."

I frown. "A snowball?"

"Yeah, the water from the flood last night has turned into a ton of snow." Bryn tells me. "If you actually got up and looked down from up there then you'd see it."

When Bryn says 'up there', she means the Cornucopia. Last night when the flood started, we were all sitting round a fire near the entrance of the golden horn. Then when the water started to come and the fire was put out, we all raced to high ground out of the way, therefore climbing on top of the Cornucopia. And so, all night, we slept on the Cornucopia until morning. But, unfortunately, I didn't get much sleep; Bryn and Tal were snickering pretty much the whole night, probably to annoy me like they always do. And also, my back aches a little from the hardness of the Cornucopia. The Gamemakers could have put up some mattresses up here for us, but no, they're cruel like that.

On my bottom, I slide across the virtually frictionless surface of the Cornucopia to the edge and look down. A sea of fluffed up white snow sits beneath my feet and when I let myself fall down, I land half buried in it. Coldness and damp seeps into my trousers and chills my legs. Bryn looks down at me, a huge smirk on her face. "Nice of you to join us, Raymond."

I scowl up at her and struggle to my feet in the thick snow, which proves to be quite a difficult task and I fall back down again. This earns a chuckle from Tal.

"Here, let me help you up." Tal says, offering his hand.

"Nah, I'm ok." I refuse his offer, shameful to accept any help. I can stand up by myself, I don't need any help.

"You sure?" Tal asks. "You seem to be...struggling."

"I'm fine." I say through gritted teeth as I take a breath in and push myself up. This time, as I fall backwards, my hand slams on the Cornucopia and I'm able to catch myself before I make more of a fool of myself.

Once steady, I let go of the Cornucopia and walk forwards, my feet trudging through the heavy snow. There's so much of it; it must be at least three foot deep. Ok, that was an exaggeration, it's probably about a foot deep, but that's still a lot.

"Oh well done, Raymond." Bryn claps patronizingly. "You managed to stand up."

"It's harder than it looks..." I mutter.

"Aw, I know it is. But you're a big boy now so you did it!" She continues to patronize me, a favourite technique of winding me up. I know I shouldn't let her get to me, but sometimes I just can't subside the anger that boils up inside me.

This is one of those times.

"Just shut up patronizing me!" I snap, startling her. She looks a little stunned, but doesn't let it faze her for long and soon enough, her little sly grin is back on her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Raymond." She says. "I didn't realise how sensitive you were. That bug incident on your birthday must still be giving you nightmares."

That. Is. It.

I slam my palms into her shoulders and knock her off her feet. Bryn goes flying backwards, landing flat on her back and sinks into the snow, leaving an outline of her body in the white ground. Tal's eyes grow wide and he rushes over to her, reaching a hand out to her to take. But her hand doesn't take his. Oh crap.

As Bryn has sunk in the snow and is a short distance away, I can't see her, all I can see is the break in the snow where she fell. I feel my heart starting to speed up and my throat feels dry. I never thought I'd say this, but I hope she's ok. I know this is the Hunger Games and we're meant to kill and Bryn really gets on my nerves, but it's too early for me to kill her yet. You only turn on your allies when it gets nearer the end and this is too early. Damn it. If she dies...the others will turn on me and I'm not sure if I can take all of them at once and even if I do, then I'll be left alone and I need people to do stuff for me.

Oh come on, she'll be fine, right? All I did was give her a little shove...And she landed in snow...But she could have hit her head...

Bryn's head lifts from the snow, a scowl tattooed on her face. I breathe a quick sigh of relief.

"Oh, so you wanna play that game, do you Raymond?" She snarls. "Ok then, I say bring it on."

"Erm, Bryn, are you sure you wanna fight him?" Ren asks uneasily. "I don't think fighting is the best way to sort this out..."

"Oh shut up, Ren." Bryn says. "No, I can fight the little District 5 dweeb."

"Well, he's not really that little...And he's nineteen now, so maybe..."

"I said, shut up Ren!"

He falls silent. We all fall silent as Bryn gets to her feet, without any help to my annoyance. Even Brooklyn, who sits on the top of the Cornucopia still, looks down at us with observing eyes. Tal whispers something in Bryn's ear and she nods, then he walks away and hauls himself to the top of the Cornucopia for a better view. Ren does the same.

"Weapons or no weapons?" Bryn asks.

I think about it. My scimitar is pretty deadly and the blade is huge and curved, it could probably slice through someone's neck with one simple swipe. But Bryn has her knives, loads of them tucked in her belt. And she's good with them. Brilliant with them in fact. I hate to admit it, but I'd rather not fight her when she has her knives.

"No weapons." I decide.

"Thought you might say that." Bryn says knowingly and unfastens her belt, along with the many knives that hang from it. She walks over and holds them up to Tal to take. "Just hold them for me, ok? And don't think about taking any, I know exactly how many are there and where they all go."

Looking fairly confident, Bryn strolls back and takes her place a few metres in front of me. She shakes her hands out in front of her and gives me a sly smile. I give her a snarl back and ball my hands in fists, cracking my knuckles as I do so.

She stands with her legs slightly apart, a ready stance.

I stand with my legs slightly apart, a ready stance.

We wait.

After a few deadly moments of silence, I'm the first to move. I always make the first move. Throwing my body weight forwards, I lash out with a jab of my fist towards her face. It's powerful, I know and if I hit the right place, then she'll be out already. But as my fist comes close to her jaw, she nimbly side steps out of range and I punch the air. Behind me, I hear Tal give a whoop.

Feeling a little embarrassed, I square my shoulders and prepare to attack again. This time, I go for a hook punch with my left hand and swing myself around as I do so. But once again, Bryn swiftly dodges the punch. Another whoop from Tal.

"Out of practise, Raymond?" Bryn smiles, enjoying making a fool of me. "You seem a little...unsteady. Do you need to call it quits already before you punch some more air?"

I let out a growl and jump forwards, both my fists shooting forwards. Bryn sees the attack coming and steps back and my knuckles barely skim her chin. But instead of stopping like I did the past few goes, I launch at her again and take her by surprise. My right fist clips her cheekbone as she steps a little too late and I hear her let out a small gasp. I go again, but she guesses it and I miss.

"Well done, you finally managed to hit me." Bryn says. "But is that all you've got, because that barely hurt."

I advance towards her, but instead of throwing a punch which she expects, I shoot out my foot instead and clip her heel as she goes to dodge. Bryn is knocked off balance and tumbles to the ground, landing face first in the snow.

I quickly move to where she fell, ready to hold her down and claim my victory, but as I get to her, she quickly rolls onto her back and kicks out her leg, catching my knee and sending a weird jelly sensation up my leg. I fall with a flop on the ground.

When I come round on my side, Bryn is above me and she kicks my side. It comes as a shock, but it doesn't hurt that much. She kicks me again, in the shin, and as she's preoccupied, I dart out my hand and grab her wrist, pulling her down.

With my hand on her collarbone, I push her down into the ground. She squirms beneath my strength, her fists punching my chest and her legs kicking my stomach. I ignore them and keep her down.

And I keep holding her down for five seconds. Halfway there.

On the sixth second, she knees my stomach. I gasp, winded and my grip loosens.

On the eighth second, she bites my lower arm. I cry out and release my grip.

"Kick him in the balls!" I hear Tal shout. "Go for the balls!"

And she does just that. Ouch.

I'm on my knees when Bryn comes over and taps my head like I'm her pet dog. "I guess that makes me the winner then."

Inva Reinhardt, District 3 POV

"Ouch..." I groan softly as I make an attempt to sit up straight. My back feels as if someone has shoved a metal pole down my spine and I'm struggling to sit upright without feeling a bone crack in my back. Not to mention my shoulders feel as if I have slept with two weights strapped to them all night. And if that's not bad enough, the wound I obtained from trying to escape the basement in my hand looks sort of green and infected.

Note to future self: Never sleep at the top of a church tower. Ever.

Normally, I would have slept on two of the broken pews pushed together in the main space of the church, but that plan went flying out of the window after the whole room was actually flooded last night. And on the few nights before that, I was stuck in a basement and had to sleep on the dusty old floor because the wooden crates didn't seem stable enough. So yes, I have had some pretty rough nights. But if I must think positively of the flood, it helped me to escape from starving to death down in the church's basement.

It was yesterday that I had just eaten the last of my dried food I had been saving. Water had gone the day before and I was beginning to struggle. Not to mention, I was insanely bored. When one seems forever trapped down a dark and cold basement alone, one can get so bored that they end up playing noughts and crosses with themselves on the wall. Crosses won the majority of games...

However, yesterday evening (well I presume it was that time of day) after playing a game of Hangman with myself in which the word was when-am-I-going-to-get-out-of-this-hell-hole, I heard the sound of dripping in the far corner of the basement. I had, as of my thirst, rushed over to where the sound came from and saw that water was dripping through the wooden door of the basement. And water seeping through a door above your head is not a good sign. However, very fortunately, the water had weakened the wood and I was able to break through it with sheer determination. On coming out of the basement, water had gushed in and I had to wade through the liquid, which was up to my knees, all the way across the church and up the stairs of the tower. Which leaves me where I am now, the morning after.

With a painful twinge in my lower back, I sit up straight at last and let my head crash against the wall behind me. It is when I hear my stomach growling that I realise I haven't eaten for a while. My hand falls to my slightly inwards curving stomach and feel a burning in the back of my throat. I quickly turn my head to the side and cough up a little bit of bile.

Reaching for my bag, which is flung at the bottom of my feet, I grab out my flask. Unscrewing the lid, I tip the flask and open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Feeling a little frustrated, I shake the flask violently and then toss it back into the bag. So no food and no water. Perfect.

I struggle to my feet, using the walls around me to keep balanced. My legs ache and I try shaking them out to relieve the stiffness. It doesn't do much really.

A thought suddenly comes to mind: the flood. Will there still be water up to my waist waiting down the stairs? I peer down the ladder and all I can see is the stone floor of the church below, so my guess is that the water magically drained away whilst everyone was sleeping. I decide to see what it's like outside, so I hobble over to the tiny square hole in the wall which acts as a window and look outside.

To say that I'm surprised at what I see is a slight understatement; I'm gob smacked. I've never been in a flood before, but I'm guessing that the water doesn't usually freeze to snow. But this is the Hunger Games and all sorts of things can happen, so snow really isn't that strange. However, when was the last time I saw snow? Last winter, the winter before? I'm not sure now, but whenever it was, I wouldn't have been bothered. I've never really been fond of snow; it's nice when it's all fresh and crisp, but after an hour or so it just goes all wet and cold and not much fun anymore.

The snow outside now looks pretty actually; it's all white and shimmery, almost glistening in the morning sun. As much fun as it may be to throw some snowballs around, it can be deadly in an arena. I'm not being negative as such, I'm just thinking tactfully. If I was to walk in the snow, then I'd be making a trail behind me and basically asking the Careers, or whoever is there, to follow and hunt me down. Not good. Which leaves me in a dilemma. I need food and water, but if I go out to get it, then I'm sure to be followed.

Food and possible death, or safety and starvation? I think the first option is the best, unfortunately.

Grabbing my bag, I swing it onto my shoulders and climb down the ladder. The rungs are cold and sting my fingers as I pass each one. I jump down from the fifth rung up and land solidly on my feet in the main body of the church. The air is chilly and bites at the bare skin of my face and passes several shivers down my spine.

Pulling the zip of my jacket to the highest point, I wrap my arms around myself and walk slowly towards the door. My hand trembles with the cold as I take hold of the handle and pull open the door. And it makes me wonder, why are churches always so cold?

A blast of icy air slaps my face as I step outside and I wince. Snow gathers at my feet, where it has been pressed up against the door all night and I shove it away with the toe of my boot. My first step into the snow falls deep and I almost lose my balance, my foot sinking to the ground beneath. I take another slow step and the same happens. I'll have to walk quickly to avoid this problem.

With fast and light steps, I make my way round the church building so that I can figure out the best way to get to the gate that leads into the forest. Standing still, I observe my surroundings and think. Well, which ever way I choose to go, I will still leave tracks that will lead straight back to the church, so I need to do something to confuse anyone who comes by.

"Aha!" I say to myself as the perfect solution comes into my mind. I'll run around all the snow in the area so that there is no trail to follow!

I start off by speed walking around, randomly switching directions constantly. But after a minute, I realise that I'm actually enjoying this, so I switch to running clumsily through the snow with my arms out to keep my balance and my feet hopping from place to place, covering as much ground as I can. By the time I start to feel exhausted, which is pretty soon due to my lack of energy from little food consumption, I take a look back at my work. The snow around me is no longer smooth, but one huge mash of white. You can't even spot any footprints, the whole thing looks as if someone got a shovel and tossed snow around wildly. Exactly the look I was after.

Now, I'm standing beside one of the old houses a short distance from the church. My hand falls to the door and I push it ajar, peering inside. It looks empty and there isn't any snow on the floor, so it's just the passage I need. Pushing the door open wide enough to gain entry, I slide in and close the door firmly behind me.

The house is just one room, not even an upstairs, and grey seems the only colour in here. Cobwebs line the stone ceiling and dust hoards in every corner and crevice, even collected in the cracks in the stone walls. This house makes the church seem like a palace.

There isn't a back door like I would have hoped for, but there is a window in the far wall. It's smaller than I would have liked, but I think I can just manage to squeeze through.

I lift my left leg and plant my foot on the ledge of the window. Gripping onto the stone bricks, with my fingers hooked in tiny crevices, I haul myself up and slide out of the window, landing with a soft thud in the snow. Behind the house there is little space, only enough for me to just walk through, and then the next house begins. I breathe with shallow breaths as I walk along the narrow path and focus on the way out. I doubt anyone will find my footprints down this alley.

* * *

**A/N- Ah, snow :D Do you like it? I liked it at first, but when it was still snowing in March (it was where I live) I kinda got bored of it...where is my summer? Anyways, but snow in the arena is good, no?**

**Ok, well I'm not really in the mood to ask loads of questions and all the rest of it...all I'll just make a few quick thought-jerkers. What will the snow bring to the tributes and with footprints being visible, will anyone be tracked down and killed? I will say that there is a death looming... And also, what do you think about Ray and Bryn's fight? Bryn's pretty hard-core, right? Gah, we all love her :D**

**Well next chapter will be up...fairly soon? I've got my collaboration, in which I have a tribute, so I have double the amount of writing to do..but I shan't neglect this story, never fear. I shall update as soon as I can!**

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews and your loyalty to reading this story, I appreciate it! Any more reviews will be even more appreciated!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	35. It Has Its Advantages

**A/N- Greeting dearest readers! Yet again, it is time to visit our tributes in the 500th Hunger Games...but what will occur in this latest chapter...?**

* * *

Ren Elmwood, District 1 POV

"Oh, his face when you bit his hand, it was hilarious!" Tal exclaims to Bryn, his face animated and still amused from this morning's event. "And then at the end when you kicked him in the balls- priceless!"

"Well, if you do it, you gotta do it well." Bryn says.

"Oh you definitely did it well, it was _the _best thing I have ever experienced in my entire life." Tal says, then retracts. "Actually, the second best thing after the bug incident on his birthday."

Bryn laughs, a laugh that sounds normal on the top, but when you listen deeper, you can hear the shrieks of cruel humiliation. "I think I have to agree with you there, Ray will never live that down."

"Hey, what should we plan next?" Tal asks her. "I'm thinking something along the lines of-"

"Maybe you two should just leave it at that." I bring myself into the conversation after sitting quietly and listening for such a long time. "Ray is already fuming with you and if you push him too far, it could end up getting out of hand."

Bryn rolls her eyes. "Oh, Ren, the voice of reason, here to save us all from making mistakes. Oh great and powerful living conscience, what life-saving advice to you have now?"

"Bryn, do you have to be sarcastic all the time?" I sigh. "Can you stop showing off in front of your boyfriend and just listen to me for once?"

"Firstly, Tal is not my boyfriend, we are friends that...occasionally make out... Whatever. Secondly, I am not showing off, sarcasm is the only language I can speak fluently." She pauses. "And thirdly, no I can't be bothered to listen to you."

Some days, I could strangle that girl.

"Fine, don't listen to me." I say, giving up. "But don't say I didn't warn you about Ray; if you push things too far then you-"

"Then I can just kick his butt again. Simples. So Ren, enough with the lectures, you saw today that I can handle myself quite easily. Unlike yourself, who comes out with all this nonsense shit and who is the only one in this pack who hasn't killed someone yet."

"That is true." Tal pipes in. "I had my first kill a few days ago."

This conversation is making me feel awkward, but I can't let it show. The truth is; I don't want to kill anyone. I'm not like all the other Careers who are trained and willing to kill. Yeah, I've been training since I was a small boy, but that was my father's choice, as was me volunteering this year. I never wanted to be a blood-thirsty Career; I never wanted to win the Hunger Games. All that was my father's dream, not mine, but he forced it upon me and now I'm left pretending that I'm something I'm not. And I hate it, but I have to keep it up as long as I can, it's all I have to keep me alive.

"Yeah well, I just haven't had my chance yet." I quickly make an excuse.

"You're not going to have a chance unless you actually find some tributes." Bryn says. "You know, sometimes I don't believe you're who you say you are. I don't believe that you're this Career guy who volunteered for the Games at all. You seem...a little soft."

Damn.

"I'm not soft," I protest, lying through my teeth. "I'm...tactful. I think more logically than most other Careers. I don't go off chasing every trail to dead ends; look where that got Kelvin. No, I prefer to approach tributes with a logical plan, like a hunt."

"A hunt..." Bryn ponders, then jumps to her feet. "Right, I have a plan. If it's a hunt you want, a hunt is what you'll get. The snow is just perfect for leaving footprints; we can easily track down a few tributes. Then Ren can prove himself for the Career he claims to be."

"Brilliant idea." Tal stands up with her and they both look at me expectantly. "Well, you coming Ren?"

"Oh, right, yeah, sure." I stumble up to my feet, grabbing my spear as Tal takes his trident and Bryn checks the knives that hang from her belt.

We make our way over to the Cornucopia where we last saw Ray. When we arrive, Ray is still there and so is, surprisingly, Brooklyn.

Ray is half buried in snow, I think he's digging because lumps of the white substance is flying out behind him as his arms power forwards. Brooklyn sits on the top of the Cornucopia, her legs dangling from the edge teasingly, and a small grin on her face, something I haven't seen in a while.

"Ray, what the hell are you doing?" Bryn asks him, frowning.

Ray huffs, stops digging and looks up. "I'm digging, what do you think? The snow has buried a lot of our supplies and I'm trying to retrieve them. See, I'm being productive instead of playing stupid games and pulling pranks like children."

Bryn doesn't seem offended by his comment at all, in fact she seems to find it amusing. "Well, we came over to see if you wanted to join us on a...little trip."

"A trip? If this is another prank then I swear to god-"

"No, it's not a prank." Bryn cuts him off before he goes off on another rant. "No, this time it's all about Ren, not you."

"Ren?"

"Yes, Ren. Seeing that Tal has had a kill, that makes Ren the only one who hasn't killed anyone yet. Therefore, we have decided to use the snow to our advantage and track us done some tributes. Then Ren can have his first kill and if there's any others around...well it's first-come-first-served. Sound good?"

It doesn't take Ray long to think about it. He quickly climbs out of the hole in the snow he was standing in and brushes the stray clumps of white off his trousers. He then takes his scimitar from the snow where it stuck up like a flag and walks over to us.

"I'm in." He says, then looks up to Brooklyn. "You coming, Brooklyn?"

Brooklyn shakes her head. "Nah, I think I'll sit this outing out tah. Have fun without me."

Ray nods and turns to Bryn. "Let's get going then, I can't wait to kill something."

"All in good time, Ray." Bryn says. "Now, let's go."

We walk down to the gate, our eyes all peeled for signs of scuffle in the snow that suggest tribute movement. Ray insists on leading the way and surprisingly, Bryn lets him lead. She walks just behind him with Tal beside her. They keep whispering things to each other and giggling...it's creeping me out. I follow in last and close the gate behind us.

In the forest, the snow is still fairly thick on the ground, only about an inch or two thinner than in the village. Along many of the branches of trees, layers of white sit and all the leaves are decorated with a sprinkling of white, almost like icing sugar.

"Keep you eyes peeled for anything of use; like messed up snow or footprints, they would be the best." Ray instructs, leading us further in.

Ducking under lower branches, I follow last again. My eyes scan the surroundings, but I desperately hope we find nothing. I really don't want to end someone's life, but if I don't, what will the others do? Kill me themselves probably.

It's after about fifteen minutes of walking when Tal announces that he has spotted something. We all stop walking immediately and freeze, following with our eyes along the point of Tal's finger. He points over to a group of bushes, berry bushes by the looks of it, and whispers that he saw one of the bushes moving.

We watch the bushes tensely, everyone on red-alert. Even I find myself wanting to see some movement.

"I don't think there's anything there." Ray says, straightening up. "It must have been-"

Sudden movement in the bush halts his sentence and we all look to each other. Sly grins appear on all but my face and the others seem to light up with excitement.

"Should we creep up on them, or not?" Tal asks.

Ray shakes his head. "No, let them know we're coming."

"You don't have to ask me twice." Bryn says, running off and whooping at the top of her voice. Tal follows closely behind her, waving his trident in the air and yelling things like 'we're coming to get you!'.

Ray slaps me on the back and gestures for me to join in. I'm hesitant at first, but when I see the doubt in his eyes, I quickly start sprinting and brandish my spear up in the air. I can hear Ray running behind me, like he's monitoring me.

As we burst through the bushes where we saw the movement, I spot Bryn and Tal running a bit ahead. And then I see the girl. Long, dark hair that streams out messily behind her, a small and dainty frame and something that looks like a bow in her hand. I don't think I remember her, but I'm sure I will later on when she's dead and I can't get her face out of my mind.

"Yeah, keep running little girl!" I hear Tal shout. "Run run as fast as you can!"

"We're right behind you, so you'd better move fast!" Bryn shouts next, then turns her head back as she runs, yelling to us behind. "Hurry up you two! Ren, c'mon, she's your target remember?"

"Yes, hurry up Ren." Ray says in low voice down my ear. "You don't want her to get away, do you?"

I grit my teeth and power on, running as fast as I ever have out of sheer fright really as Ray, being behind me, could easily stab me if I act out of turn. I know it puts me closer to killing the girl, but it's a sacrifice I'm going to have to take right now.

When we at last catch up with Bryn and Tal, they're standing before a huge tree, their heads titled back as they look up the long trunk.

"Where's the girl?" Ray asks, "Up the tree?"

Bryn nods. "Yeah, but she won't be for much longer."

I watch as Bryn adjusts her boots and takes a few steps back from the tree. She then does a run-up and leaps into the air, grasping the lowest branch she can reach and hauling herself up.

"You go Bryn!" Tal shouts encouragingly. "Go get her down so Ren can get his first kill!"

I just gulp and watch Bryn. She struggles at first to keep balanced and almost slips a few times before she stands on one of the low branches. She shuffles along the branch and then reaches for the next one, using the grip on the soles of her boots to help her climb up the trunk. I can see her limbs shaking slightly, either from fear or from the effort of climbing. Probably the effort, Bryn doesn't seem likely to be afraid of heights and besides, she isn't actually that far from the ground.

Near the top of the tree, the girl crouches in the branches, her face pale with fear and dread. Her eyes watch Bryn like a hawk.

"I hope...your good at...landing" Bryn says between breaths to the girl. "because you're...going to have...a..long fall..."

For the first time, I hear the girl speak. I imagine her voice to be weak and wobbly, but it's quite the opposite. The girl's words are confident and opposing, a challenge to Bryn. "Actually, I think it's you who needs the good landing skills, because I'm not going anywhere and we both can't stay up this tree."

Tal, Ray and I stand there, completely stunned.

"I wouldn't bet on it." Bryn replies harshly. "But you get double brownie points for trying to stand up to a Career."

The girl doesn't say anything else, she just quietly pulls something long and narrow from her bag and holds out her bow. I can see from here that it isn't a proper bow; it doesn't look like a Capitol weapon at all, she must have made it herself. Bryn doesn't seem to notice what the girl is doing; she's concentrating more on scaling the tree, but Tal does and he yells out a warning. "Bryn! Watch out!"

Bryn looks up to see an arrow, again another handmade weapon, come zooming towards her. She moves her head to the side quickly, but it misses anyway, just catching the side of her upper arm. Bryn yelps out in pain and her grip loosens, causing her to drop from the tree and come crashing down to the ground.

"Bryn!" Tal cries out and rushes over to her. I walk over too.

Bryn sits on the ground with her legs stretched out in front of her. Luckily for her, the snow on the ground softened her fall, so she just seems a little winded instead having a broken leg which she may have had if she fell on hard ground.

"Is she ok?" I ask.

"Fortunately, the snow broke her fall, so she hasn't broken anything." Tal reports. "But the wound in her arm is quite nasty."

"Little bitch." Bryn curses softly, clearly in pain. "Ow, Tal, don't touch it."

"Sorry." Tal apologises. "It needs to be fully dressed. I think we have some bandages of some kind back at camp." He turns to me. "Ren, could you take her back and wrap up her arm?"

"Why can't you?" I ask.

"Yeah, why can't you?" Bryn repeats. "What if I don't want Ren to do it?"

"Then you can get it infected and die." Tal says sharply, something else clearly on his mind.

"But where will you be?" Bryn asks him.

"I'm going after the girl, she can't have gotten far." He says. "I can't trust Ren to finish her off, but I know if I go, the job will be done."

"Are you sure?" Bryn asks. "Is Ray going with you?"

"If he wants." Tal shrugs.

"Ok, well don't get hurt, I don't want you hogging all the bandages."

"I won't." Tal assures her and bends down, giving her a deal-sealing kiss which lasts too long that it becomes awkward and I have to turn away.

Not really knowing where to look, I find my eyes flicking up the tree. The branch that two minutes ago was occupied by the mysterious girl is now bare. And the girl is nowhere to be seen. I breathe a sigh of relief; at least I can put off killing for another day.

Arya Firestone, District 7 POV

Penknife in hand, teeth biting my lower lip and my arm steady with concentration, I guide the blade smoothly down the wood. Little strips of pale wood, thin like paper, peel off and drop onto my lap, some being blown of weightlessly as a gentle breeze ripples through the branches of the tree. I try to blank out the occasional tickle of the wind against my neck and the soft sound of scuttling creatures as I focus all my attention on the task at hand: finishing my bow.

At the beginning of the Games, at the Cornucopia, I had not gotten the weapon I wanted, a bow and set of arrows. The District One girl was too quick and got them first, as well as an axe...some people are just greedy. Anyways, I didn't fancy getting slaughtered, so I left with just a bag which thankfully contained a weapon; a penknife, quite small and pretty useless against a sword, but it was better than nothing.

_One last stroke...aha, all done. _I slot the penknife back into my bag and hold out the frame of my newly made bow. It's slender and streamlined; easy to run around with and light enough to carry whilst climbing trees. And it's tailored to my own size and the wood has been carved so much that all the rough, dark brown bark has been stripped, leaving a beautiful pale, almost white, wood. It's perfect. See, sometimes there are advantages to being alone in the Games; you can spend all your time making something useful and enjoy it because there isn't anything else to do.

I haven't got the right string for the bow, so I'll have to make do with one of the ties on my bag. Retrieving the penknife from my bag, I begin to slice through a string on the bag. It comes off easy enough and I test it out, seeing how strong it is when I pull it in different directions. When it stretches a little, but does not snap, I decide that it is good enough to finish my bow. I nick a little groove into the two ends of the bow's frame and tie on the string. Now it's done.

"Hm, not bad Arya, not bad." I compliment myself, admiring my latest creation. "But does it work?"

Well, let's test it out then.

Bag over my shoulder and bow in my hand, I expertly climb across to the next tree and glance down at the snow covered ground beneath me. It's quite nice having snow; it's pretty and like a safety net in case I was to fall out of a tree, which is unlikely though. However, it doubles as a death trap. For if you walk across it, huge imprints are left behind, so anyone can follow your footprints. I have seen this is the case for some animals, but for us tributes with our big boots, we'd leave craters behind. Another reason why I feel more comfortable up in the trees and luckily, they all are fairly close together or have long enough branches that I can climb from tree to tree quite successfully. Ha, Careers can't track me now.

In the next tree, I climb down a branch or two to edge a little closer to the ground. Once at a suitable height, I settle and reach into my bag over my shoulder and pull out an arrow. Yet again, they aren't proper arrows, I made them as well as making my bow. They're not quite as thin and streamlined as normal, professional arrows, but I think they'll do the trick.

Holding out my bow, I fit in an arrow and pull back the string so that it presses across my cheek. I point the bow downwards to aim at any passing creatures, and I wait.

A few minutes later, I see a dark, furry animal thing padding along in the snow. As of it's dark colour, it stands out against the white of the snow. And it travels along with such little speed. It's practically impossible to miss.

Levelling my bow and arrow, I aim at the animal. My breaths slow and I focus, before releasing the string. I watch as the arrow goes zipping through the air, only to be stopped as it pierces the body of the creature. The animal yelps: a high pitched squeal that cuts through my ears like a knife through delicate skin. Yet it doesn't fall dead. Instead, I watch it limp helplessly towards a cluster of bushes, where it finally gives in and collapses. It's not pleasant to watch, but it's life.

I climb to an even lower branch and look down at the circle of bushes where the animal lies. The bushes are quite thick together, so there is little snow on the ground around them. How convenient. I can quickly pop down, take my meat and come back up without leaving a single footprint. Ah, sometimes I have those days when everything turns out right and today seems like one of those days.

I jump down from the tree, landing on my feet beside a bush. The back of my heel leans in the edge of some snow, but it doesn't leave enough of a mark to be noticed. Lifting my leg and stepping over the bush, I stand in the centre of the leafy cluster and bend to pick up the animal. Firstly, I prod it, just to make sure it really is dead, then once I'm certain it's lifeless, I take back my arrow that sticks up from it's side and open my bag to put the creature inside.

That's when I hear them.

Careers. A group of them. Shouting and screaming. Laughing and whooping. I can hear them crashing through the woods and I know they're coming after me.

Panicking, I drop my arrow and leap over the bushes, catching the tip of my boot as I jump and causing myself to land awkwardly. My foot sinks into the snow and unsteadies me, but the yells behind drive me onwards.

"Yeah, keep running little girl!" I hear a boy shouting at me, patronizing me. "Run run as fast as you can!"

All the moisture from my mouth has now gone and I clamp my teeth so hard together than my gums start to ache. Every breath I draw in through my nose trembles and I feel a small tear falling down the side of my face. This could be the end of me.

"We're right behind you, so you'd better move fast!" A girl shouts next, sending fearful shivers down my shaking body as I run. Maybe I can outrun them, maybe if I can get away I can climb a tree or something. But with each step I take, I can feel them getting closer. Careers are trained for running; they can probably run circles around me in a sprint. They're sure to catch me if I just keep running, so I need to get up a tree now. Maybe, just maybe, none of them can climb trees.

I spot my opportunity to make a break for it- a tall tree with randomly spaced branches. Easy for a District Seven girl like me to climb, but pretty difficult for a Career with little tree-climbing experience which I hope applies to all of them.

I reach out my arms as I run towards the tree and grab onto the first branch I can reach. With one swing, I pull myself up and keep going upwards until I reach the very top of the tree. By now, the Careers have caught up with me and stand at the foot of the tree. I peer down at them and finally see the faces of my chasers: a small girl with a pixie haircut and a concerning amount of knives slotted in her belt and a boy, tall and tanned and wielding a trident. He's obviously from District Four and I think I remember the girl as coming from District Two. But also, there are two others with them. An even taller boy with wild curly hair who has a sheepish look on his face and holds a spear, and another, much stockier boy who I'm pretty sure is called Raymond and was the District Five volunteer.

Raymond doesn't seem to have noticed me and asks the others, "Where's the girl? Up the tree?"

I gulp as the others nod and all look up to me. I can feel my chest tightening with paranoia. _Please don't be able to climb. Please._

My desperate pleas block out the sound of the Careers and I miss what they just said, but I'm sure it isn't relevant because the short girl has started to climb the tree. Oh my god.

At first she seems ok with getting up the lower parts of the tree, but as the branches get further and further apart, I can see that's she's struggling a little. Her fellow allies whoop and cheer her on below, which makes my stomach turn.

I keep my eyes on the girl, watching how she climbs in case she gets to a certain point where I'll have to flee for my life. And unfortunately, she seems ok at the moment...so I may have to escape...

"I hope...your good at...landing" The girl snarls to me between panting breaths. "because you're...going to have...a..long fall..."

A large lump forms in my throat and my head spins, yet I remain calm enough to realise that I need to act- now. Maybe I could buy some time for myself whilst I figure out what to do next. So despite my closing throat and trembling chin, I speak back to the girl as loud and as confident as I can. "Actually, I think it's you who needs the good landing skills, because I'm not going anywhere and we both can't stay up this tree." Perhaps that will surprise her.

Unfortunately, the girl doesn't seem to shocked, well at least not enough to affect her climbing. But the boys, however, seem totally taken aback by my comment.

The girl glares up at me and replies in her harshest tone, "I wouldn't bet on it. But you get double brownie points for trying to stand up to a Career."

That's it. That's enough time to decide on my plan. Quickly and quietly as I can, I whip out an arrow from my bag and position it into my bow. I have little time to aim properly, so I make a silent prayer to myself. _Well, here goes nothing..._

I release the arrow and watch painfully as it misses the girl. I'm about to curse and grab out another arrow, but a yelp from the girl stops me. I quickly look down and see her fall from the tree, a large bloody wound on her upper arm. Aha, so I didn't miss her entirely. Nice shot, actually.

As the Careers below rush to her aid, I make my escape. Clambering along the branch, I hop over to the next tree and the next one and the one after that. Basically, I keep going and going and never look back. There seems to be no signs that they are following me, so I guess that luck just may be on my side today.

Brooklyn Virgona, District 1 POV

The camp suddenly feels a lot quieter and emptier since everyone left about half an hour ago. It seems you could whisper something so hushed and under your breath, yet it would be carried around the camp like an echoing shout, bouncing off every surface and reflecting off the snowy ground. I knew it would be quiet, but maybe I didn't realise just how quiet. I guess I like the silence sometimes; it can be relaxing to have to listen to nothing and no-one, but at the same time, every muscle in my body feels tense, waiting for something to happen. Something usually happens when the world around you is deadly silent.

I kick the snow with my boots as I trudge along, letting it pile into tiny hills beside me. I always liked snow, it made a great change in scenery when training; the old training room at the back of the house smelt like dust and sweat, so I liked it when I could train outside. Whenever it snowed, all the people from the Training Academies would come down and hold winter tournaments in the main city. The boys would often end up in balls of flying fists and roll around in the snow, beating the crap out of each other. Whereas the girls preferred to toss hard and compressed snowballs at each other, which did cause nasty bruising if they were hit in the right place and with enough power. Personally, I did a bit of both.

Despite not being in an academy and training at home instead, I would still always get myself into the tournaments. Academy trainees were usually quite snotty, so it was good if I beat one in a fight because all the others would laugh at them for being beaten by a 'home schooler', or whatever was the current nickname for a non-academy trainee. And I have to be honest; I did beat the majority of whom I fought. So yeah, snow was good.

However, now it is just getting on my nerves. The snow is much too thick and over half of our supplies have been buried under layers of the stuff. Ray attempted to dig some out before, but then gave up and went out hunting with the others. I then tried some myself and managed to save a box, which was typically empty, but then my fingers started to numb with the cold so I stopped.

Back at the Cornucopia, I walk past the snowmen that Tal, Bryn and Ren made earlier. Pretty childish really, but I suppose they did use them as dummies to train on, so they can be excused. Hm, maybe I'll do some training myself, I am bored senseless.

Walking over to the side of the Cornucopia, I take my axe which was leaning against it. As I walk a short distance from the snowmen, I casually swing the axe in my hand, my wrist turning in tiny continuous circles. Now a fair distance from the 'dummies', I loosen my shoulder and swing the axe in a bigger circle a few times before releasing it. The axe spins through the air and cleanly slices the head off one of the snow tributes and it smashes as it hits the ground. I didn't expect anything less.

"Pretty good shot, Brooklyn." Kelvin comments from somewhere behind me.

"Yeah, but let me guess, Kelvin, you can do-" I suddenly freeze._ Kelvin? What? Isn't he...dead?_

I turn sharply on my heels, expecting to see Ray or Tal laughing at their success of pulling off a good Kelvin impression. However, it's not them. It really is Kelvin. He stands with his arms hanging down by his sides, his hands curled into gentle fists. The thing is, he sounds like Kelvin and acts like Kelvin, but he isn't Kelvin. Not really. His skin is ghastly pale, except from the patches of grey and black on his face- like soot from an unclean flame- and his clothes are crisp and burnt at the edges. Just like he has walked out of a fire...

I know it's crazy; I saw him die with my own eyes so it should be impossible that he is here; but even so, I find myself walking towards him. Kelvin doesn't back away, he simply stands and waits for me to reach him. I stop when I'm a metre in front of him.

"Kelvin?" I say his name softly, my voice both tender and afraid.

"Brooklyn." He replies with such simplicity it almost makes me smile.

I reach out to take his hand, but my extended fingers slip right through his hand and I gasp in surprise.

"Yeah, that happens." Kelvin says, shrugging. "Unfortunate really, as I would have liked to kiss you right now."

I look up to him, his face still covered by darkening soot. Even like this, he is beautiful. "Kelvin, what happened to you? I mean, I saw you...die?"

"Hm, I've been wondering about that too..." He frowns. "I dunno, I guess I'm just a ghost then. It does have some advantages- actually, I wanna show you something. Come with me."

"Show me what?" I ask, but he has already begun to run off and it doesn't seem like he is going to wait for me, so I sprint off after him.

Kelvin leads me through the village, down a path I've been along when heading into the woods. All the way, he keeps a fairly large distance between us and each time I run faster to try to catch up, he just runs faster too and so I'm unable to reach him. And when we reach the gate, he simply runs through it, the metal just passing through his body as if he doesn't exist. Well, I suppose he doesn't really exist, well not in the living-breathing form of existing.

Going through the gate; I have to open it because I can't fly through it like Kelvin; I enter the woods. There's forest all in front of me, but no Kelvin.

"Kelvin?" I ask his name with caution and take a few steps. "Where are you?"

"Over here- quick." I look to my left and see Kelvin beckoning me over from a nearby tree. I race towards him, but as I draw near, he disappears and reappears at another tree further into the forest.

"Oh come on, Brooklyn." Kelvin groans. "You're too slow."

"Hey, I'm not slow!" I protest. "You're the one magically poofing from tree to tree like some wizard."

Kelvin grins. "Yeah, that is one of the advantages of being a ghost. Now hurry up, mortal."

Rolling my eyes, I continue on and run from tree to tree and Kelvin gets further and further away, until he goes to far and I lose sight of him. He's just showing off now; still his usual egotistic self as a ghost as he was when he was human. I keep running in the general direction he was heading in. I'll probably find him leaning against a tree, complaining about my lack of speed or something.

I pass tree after tree after tree, but Kelvin never appears. "Kelvin? Kelvin?" I tumble through the woods, my head turning constantly from side to side, searching for him. It's like we're playing hide and seek.

I start to grow tired of running, so I slow to a jog. The trees here seem to be taller and packed more closely than the trees I passed before. The light starts to be blocked by the leaves and branches of the trees and a huge shadow is cast over me. And the air seems colder, biting at the skin of my cheeks.

"Kelvin?" When I speak this time, my voice echoes and his name bounces from tree trunk to tree trunk and back into my ears, where it rings over and over.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to shake out his name from playing over in my head. My steps are wobbly and flat footed as I walk clumsily in the snow. When I finally open my eyes, I see that I am standing just at the edge of the river. The tips of my boots rest a few centimetres from the frozen strip of water.

My head lifts and my eyes rest on someone, standing right in the centre of the frozen river. At first, I think it's Kelvin, but as I look closer, I can see that it is clearly not.

My jaw drops and my mouth gapes open in shock. My folded arms loosen and fall limply to my sides. And I stare in complete silence, listening to the strong beating of my heart.

"Mom?"

"Brooklyn."

My Mom stands with her arms held open for me. She smiles warmly, but I can see that she is cold on the inside. Her heart doesn't beat and like Kelvin, her skin is ghastly pale. She's a ghost, I know, but it's been ten years since she died and all I want is to be near her. Just one more time. So I step onto the frozen river, the ice makes a quiet cracking sound, but doesn't break. It seems to be able to hold my weight.

Tears well up in my eyes and break, falling down my face like waterfalls. My vision blurs, but I can still make out my Mom's beautiful and glowing face. She was always so beautiful; Dad said I got my looks from her. And even as a ghost, she is still as beautiful as I remember. More beautiful maybe.

"Mom, I've missed you so much." I say, my voice quivering.

"And I've missed you too, my daughter." She replies, her voice all silvery and light. "Who was that boy I saw you chasing earlier?"

I feel my cheeks flush. "Oh, that was Kelvin."

"Kelvin...well, I see you have the same taste as me; tall, dark and handsome."

"Was Dad _handsome_?" I laugh, a picture of Dad appearing in my mind.

"He was when he was younger, yes. Very handsome." Mom answers.

"And you were beautiful, he said. You still are."

"So are you, Brooklyn."

I stop walking. One step away from my Mom, who I loved so much as a child and was cruelly snatched from me at the birth of my younger brother and sister. I remember how I felt that my heart had been ripped out and stamped on. Ten years. And now, she's back. Not quite as I would have liked her to be, but a ghost is the closest I'll get and I am grateful for even that.

"Mom, I love you."

I take the last step forwards.

I hear a crack.

The ice beneath my feet shatters.

And I fall through.

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**A/N- Ooh, fairly dramatic, no? Well, I decided I wanted a really interesting chapter and what with the final eight only two more deaths away...well, I want things to get a little more exciting. So yes, I can confirm that Brooklyn is now dead. Were you expecting that? Or did you think she would have survived longer? And yeah...I was missing Kelvin a little so I fancied putting him in there as a little twist...which begs the question, are any of the other dead tributes going to reappear anywhere? Hm...**

**Right, so as I mentioned before, there are only two more deaths until the final eight. And I will tell you that from here, things should get a little more dramatic, dangerous and interesting as we draw nearer and nearer to the finish... **

**Thanks everyone for continuing to read this story, I'm glad you spend a small portion of your lives reading what takes up the majority of mine. And I'm loving the reviews that are coming in, could we have even more please? Yay! :D**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**

**Oh and just to let you know, my collaboration 'Death Numbs The Pain: The 124th Hunger Games' has now officially begun and is posted under 'Regieturtle' 's account. Please do have a look and read it if you'd like!**


	36. Breaking Point

**A/N- Whoosh! Another chapter done! This one was one I have been planning for a while now...so I hope it is as exciting for you to read as it was for me to write! Enjoy :D**

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Tal Fontaine, District 4 POV

"She can't have gone far." I say, for probably the tenth time in the last minute.

"You just said that about twenty seconds ago." Ray points out. "I think I get the point now."

"Yeah, but seriously, where the hell is she? You can't get that far away in such a short time. It's impossible!" I exclaim, tossing up my arms dramatically to emphasise my exclamation.

"Unless she sprouted wings and flew up over the rainbow and into a magical cloud land filled with pink unicorns." Ray says sarcastically, which is strange for him. He's usually quite boring. "Or she could have been sent an invisible cloak by sponsors and is actually following us as we speak. Or, if you want to be more adventurous, then she could be like some female Tarzan and-"

I punch him, hard, my fist landing with a smack against his solid bicep. I think it's a pretty decent punch...however, Ray barely flinches, so there goes that thought and now I just look weak. Oh well, I compensate for my lack of muscle with my charms and good looks; neither of which Ray excels in.

"Shut up, Ray." I moan. "Sarcasm ain't your thing."

Ray nods, the corner of his top lip curled upwards; not quite a grin, but almost one. "Too right it isn't. We all know that the language of sarcasm belongs to you and Bryn."

"Then why did you attempt it yourself?" I ask. "I thought you hated our sarcasm."

"I do hate it, you drive me round the bend with it. However, you're in such a dull mood that I thought I would try and lighten the atmosphere."

"I am not in a dull mood." I say defensively.

Ray raises his eyebrows sceptically. "Of course you're not. That's why your face looks like you're sucking a sour lemon."

"I am not sulking, ok?!" I snap. "I'm just annoyed about this girl, all right?"

Ray holds his hands up in surrender. "Ok, ok, chill. We'll find this girl and you can kill her slowly and painfully and get revenge for the injury of your beloved."

I go to protest about Bryn being called my 'beloved', but I decide to just take it. I can't be bothered anymore, they're always teasing me about it, so I've just given up trying.

"What, so you're not going to insist that you're _'just friends'_?" Ray seems surprised.

"Nope."

"So you're going public then?"

"Just shut up and keep looking."

We collapse into silence again. Finally. Our footsteps fall together as we walk, so that each time I step, Ray steps at exactly the same time. This tends to happen when you're walking in silence with someone. When you're not concentrating on conversation, your brain starts to compensate by following walking patterns. All the while, I keep my eyes and ears peeled. I mainly have a close eye on the tops of the trees where the girl is most likely to be, but occasionally, I glance over to Ray who is looking insanely bored and swinging his scimitar dangerously in his hand. Not helping.

I'm not exactly sure why I am so desperate to find this girl. Originally, I thought I wanted to teach her a lesson for messing with the Careers. But then again, Ren is hardly the tough Career... So then my motive turned into one for revenge for Bryn's arm because...oh, I dunno, I guess I'm starting to feel a little protective over her even though she so clearly doesn't need protecting. Realising this, maybe my reasons for wanting to kill this girl are actually to impress Bryn. When we took down the girl in the woods a few days ago, it had felt so good and the adrenaline was fantastic. And afterwards, Bryn kept complimenting me on my skills of being an evil villain, so maybe now I just want that recognition again. Maybe.

"So..." Ray goes to start another conversation. "How are you planning on killing this girl?"

I shrug. "Dunno, depends on the situa-" I stop talking at the sound of a canon firing.

Ray shrugs. "Maybe someone beat you to it? Or maybe Bryn got annoyed with Ren and finished him off?"

"That wouldn't surprise me." I say. "However, I think Bryn would make use of Ren before she killed him. She's smarter than that."

"True, true." Ray agrees, then makes a totally irrelevant comment. "Oh look, we've reached the river."

I look over and see that we have indeed reached the river. From here it looks frozen solid, just like the water in the well back at camp.

"Hey, I wonder how other tributes have gotten water if the river's frozen?" Ray ponders out loud. "Maybe we should look and see if there are any prints in the snow beside the river. We could find someone else instead of the girl if we're lucky."

I go to reluctantly agree, but Ray is already on his way. I follow behind, the bottom of my trident skimming the top layers of snow on the ground where my arm is too tired to lift it higher. As I reach the river, Ray is already partway down it and is waving his hand in a gesture to beckon me over.

"What is it?" I ask, coming beside him. "Footprints?"

Ray shakes his head. "Nope, but I've found who the canon belonged to. Look."

My eyes glance over the frozen river, all smooth and shining in the bleak light until my eyes settle on a break in the otherwise perfect ice. Large cracks like lightning bolts extend around the gap and the edges of the ice look jagged, as if someone has just smashed into it with a hammer. And right up through the middle of the break in the ice an arm sticks out, the hand on the end resting still on the ice surface. It's like something from a horror story you tell at sleepovers...not that I've been to any sleepovers that is, that's a girl thing.

"Well isn't that a beautiful sight..." I say. "It's not every day you see a dead person's hand coming out from a frozen river. In fact, I wish I had a camera now. It would probably freak Ren out. What'ya think, eh? Reckon he would freak out? Ray? Dude?"

"Hey, quite ignoring me." I prod his shoulder, but he just shrugs it off and continues to blank me, his eyes unmoving from the hand. "Ray, don't tell me that you're freaked out by the hand? I didn't have you down as a wuss."

Ray still says nothing.

"Oh come on, Ray." I roll my eyes. "It's just a hand, I mean, you've killed someone yourself. This is nothing!"

Ray's head snaps around so suddenly that I almost expect it to come off his neck. I can see that his eyes are glazed with moisture. "Yeah, well what if that _hand _happened to belong to Brooklyn, eh? What if that was the case?"

My jaw drops slightly and I look in shock over to the hand. Actually, it does look a little like the slender fingers of Brooklyn and she was left alone... Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

"Is it really her?" I ask, but sort of knowing the answer.

"One way to find out." Ray says, kneeling down as close to the edge of the river as he can without touching the fragile ice. He reaches out his arm, which is surprisingly long, and his hand just reaches the hand. I watch as he grabs the hand and starts to pull. Seeing that he is struggling a little, I come over and grab hold of the wrist, puffing as I heave with my little strength. After a few violent tugs, the person's head comes above the surface and I almost yelp as my eyes set on a ghostly white and clearly dead Brooklyn's head. Oh shit.

I drop the wrist, the dead pulse chilling against my fingers. Ray still holds onto Brooklyn's hand, so the rest of her arm just hangs limply rather than drops when I let go. He stays on his knees, holding the hand; silent and kinda creepy. I haven't seen Ray like this. Never.

"Ray, dude." I tap his shoulder. "You should let her go; they'll come to lift her body out of the arena soon. C'mon, we need to back off."

Ray nods, carefully placing Brooklyn's hand back onto the ice and stands back. "We need to tell the others."

"You ok?" I ask him.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ray replies, a little harsh on his tone. "She'd have to die anyway if I'm going to be Victor. Besides, she was really annoying."

I don't say anything, I just simply shrug and walk on. I can't quite get to grips with where we're going. With our discovery, my mind is a little messed up and I can't think straight. How did Brooklyn get to the river anyway? She can't have been forced, she's too tough and there were only her footprints in the snow, no sign of a struggle. But why did she go into the woods alone? Maybe she thought the river wouldn't be frozen like the water in the well? But that doesn't explain why she walked on top of the ice; she must have known what would happen, surely...unless it was suicide? No. No way, not Brooklyn. But then again, strange and unexpected things happen in the Games all the time...

There's a rustle in some bushes ahead and I freeze. Ray keeps on walking.

"Ray!" I whisper loudly. "Where are you going?! There's someone here! It could be the girl!"

Ray doesn't turn around, but replies with his back facing me so that his words bend around his square shoulders. "You get 'em yourself. I'm gonna catch up with Bryn and Ren and tell them about Brooklyn. Cya."

I stand still, my arms dropped to my sides and my trident puncturing a hole in the snowy ground. I watch Ray disappear between the trees until I'm alone...well, alone apart from the tribute I just heard in the bushes. I wonder if it is the girl..ooh, this is gonna be good.

As I advance towards the bushes, my trident brandished and ready to kill, I hear the gentle sound of boots treading in snow. But not my boots.

I spin around without haste, expecting to see a tribute, maybe the girl, fleeing for their life. However, what I do see is quite the opposite.

A boy, about the same height and age as me, with an uneven flop of chestnut brown hair that shadows his cold, slitting eyes that send me daggers. In his hand he grips a short sword that is stained with mud and blood. As he stares despisingly towards me, I feel a little unnerved. Why would a non-career approach a Career alone?

"You do realise that you're meant to avoid Careers, not deliberately approach them?" I say mockingly to him.

He replies with a slight snarl.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I ask.

He shakes his head and speaks in a low voice. "You've probably forgotten me, haven't you, Tal?"

Whoa, why does this crazed dude know my name? Actually, he probably remembers me from the training or the parade when we were all in the Capitol; I'm quite memorable. However, that doesn't quite explain why he's here now..and I'm guessing it's not for an autograph.

"Nope, sorry, you're not particularly familiar to me." I say. "Am I supposed to remember you?"

"Have you forgotten already, what you did?" The boy says darkly.

I nod. "Probably, yeah, I've done a lot of things. Are you going to remind me then because I'm bored now and just want to kill you already. I have things I need to attend to."

The boy laughs, a twisted chuckle that is not one usually heard from a non-career like him.

"You killed Luna." He says simply. "Remember now?"

Heidi Fitzherbit, District 12 POV

This house is a lot smaller than our last one. Ok, when I say 'our', I don't mean it belonged to us or anything, because this is the Hunger Games and nothing in here belongs to us, they're just things we borrow and then give up when we die and...yeah, I'm going to stop blabbering now and get to the point...

Anyways, so this house is a lot smaller than the last one. Where there used to be a large, spacious room, there is now a small rectangle that when you stand and hold out your arms horizontally, your fingertips can touch both walls beside you. Lucky for me, I'm not claustrophobic, so I actually think that this place is quite cosy. And when a fire is lit, it warms the whole room almost instantly. Oh, and not to mention that Guthrie gets to be a little closer to me.

"C'mon Guthrie." I urge him on. "Hurry up with the fire, I'm freezing."

"I'm going as fast as I can, but this wood just won't light properly." Guthrie replies. "They're a little damp from the snow and it's difficult without any matches."

Matches. We ran out of them yesterday. At first I didn't really think much of them; I mean, they're just tiny sticks, right? Wrong, Heidi. It turns out that matches are actually kinda important and where I thought you could easily light a fire with some twigs, it's actually much harder than it sounds. It's not just a case of rubbing two pieces of wood together, no, typically, it's much more complex than that. In the Capitol, when we were training, I never went to the fire making station, I thought it was just common sense. However, I am now wishing that I did go and had spent a little less time at the edible plants station because I already knew everything there, I just liked showing off my knowledge to any tributes passing by. Guthrie went to the fire making station, but what he learned isn't really helping right now. It seems that the trainers didn't mention what you would do if a whole load of snow damaged all the wood.

"Hey, I thought you went to the fire making station before we got into the arena?" I say to Guthrie.

He grunts. "I did, but somehow they forgot to tell us what to do in snowy weather."

"Well maybe they didn't know it would snow in the arena?" I suggest.

Guthrie shakes his head. "Nah, I bet they knew. They just probably wanted to see us suffer. But hey, what else did we expect?"

Guthrie strikes the wood again, but nothing comes of it. He tries again and again and again, each time his face gets redder and redder and his fist gets tighter and tighter. I can tell that this is getting on his nerves. Now, Guthrie isn't one to get angry about things, but I'm still doubtful.

"Guthrie," I put my hand on his arm. "stop, please. You'll just get annoyed with it and end up hurting yourself."

Guthrie sighs and nods, dropping the wood. He takes a few deep breaths and turns to me. "Thanks, Heidi. I just wanted to get the fire started to keep you warm."

"Hey, don't worry about it." I smile kindly. "You can just rub your hands around mine to stop my fingers from getting frostbitten."

Guthrie laughs and takes my hands. His are warm and despite what you would think, they're surprisingly soft. He gently runs his palms along my icy hands, squeezing the ends of my fingertips with a tiny pinch and making me giggle because it tickles. This makes him grin and do it more, until I have to pull my hands away, surrendering.

"Ok, ok, they're warm now." I say, still giggling. "It's just the rest of me that's cold now. Feel free to give a back or shoulder massage if you want."

Guthrie raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. "A massage? I thought that was your thing, remember? You told me about trading foot massages for your neighbour's milk. Now, I don't have any milk to offer, but I think I've done enough to deserve a foot massage."

I take a glance at his boots. His thick, dirty boots. I haven't seen him take off his boots lately, so his feet could have been in there for ages...ew, they might be sweaty and stinky!

I shake my head. "Nope. No way. No milk, no foot massage."

Guthrie sticks out his bottom lip, but I'm not backing down. "No, Guthrie. I mean it."

He sighs and stands up, his body looming over me like a dark shadow. "Fine, how about we strike a deal, eh? I'll get some fresh, dry firewood and in return, you give me a foot massage. How about it?"

I bite my lower lip, thinking. His feet may not be that bad...and I will get a nice fire...Fire or clean hands? Fire or clean hands? Fire.

"Ok, deal." I decide, holding out my hand. Guthrie takes it and gives it a firm shake.

"Righty ho, I'd best be off." He heads towards the door. "You all right on your own, or do you wanna come?"

"Nah, I'll be ok." I tell him. "I doubt anyone would come in here. And I have a weapon to protect me." I gesture to the jagged knife that lies beside my leg. "I'll be ok, I promise. Now go and get some wood already!"

"Ok, ok, I'm going." Guthrie grabs his sword from its leaning position on the wall. "I'll only be a few minutes anyway, the gap in the fence is only a few buildings down. I'll run into the woods, grab some dry wood and come back. Twenty minutes tops."

"Bye Guthrie." I say, hinting for him to leave. He gets the hint, waves and exits through the creaking door, shutting it firmly behind him. I listen out for his running footsteps until everything is silent.

Then I realise that this is my first time alone in the Games. I shiver passes down my spine. I'm not used to this, this silence. Even when everyone was asleep and I was awake doing a night watch or whatever, there would still be the sound of gentle snoring and heavy breathing. But now, there is nothing to be heard besides the sound of my own heavy breathing.

"No, Heidi." I tell myself sternly. "You won't be afraid. Nothing is going to happen, you're fine. Just sit still and wait until Guthrie comes back. Yes, just wait. He'll be back. Just wait."

I sit and I wait. My eyes flick around me, following the rays of dim sunlight that break through holes in the old door and shine on the bumpy walls of the building. The stone walls are ugly, I decide, too bleak and grey and dirty and lumpy. If I had some water and a sponge, I would clean those walls and then maybe this place will seem a little more comforting. And then maybe a nice rug on the floor to sit on so my bum doesn't get dusty and so when I lie down, my back has a little more comfort. Ooh, and then I could paint the door pink and have the number 3476 written in white because I like that number, it's a nice number. Yes! And maybe have some potted plants outside to brighten it up, and and-

I hear footsteps. Heavy footsteps. Oh, it must be Guthrie. His steps are probably heavier because of all the wood he must be carrying. I think I'll go and help him carry some in.

I get up to my feet, using to wall to balance me and pulling a disgusted face when I see the dirt that has now been printed onto my palms. Yuck.

As I'm walking towards the door, I start to rub my hand on my trousers to try and wipe off the black dirt. And then I hear something that doesn't sound like Guthrie.

"Ouch! Will you stop doing that? What part of I have a huge gash in my arm don't you understand?!"

"Sorry, it's not my fault you got injured by a non-career girl who didn't even have a proper weapon."

"Will you shut up saying that! At least I've actually killed someone in these Games, unlike you."

I instantly freeze. Oh my god. There are Careers outside. Holy cow.

Whilst they continue arguing, I quietly panic. My limbs go to jelly and my heart rate picks up. I'm aware that my breathing is so heavy that they can probably hear it outside, but I can't stop. I'm literally quaking in my boots here. What if they come in here? Sure, I have a knife, but what good is that going to do against _Careers_? Where is Guthrie? Oh I wish he was here right now.

_Stay still and stay quiet, _I think to myself, _they'll just walk by and not notice you._ Slowly, I lower myself down to the ground and settle on my bottom. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I cower in the far corner and listen.

"Seriously, will you two just shut the fuck up, ok?"

He doesn't sound pleased...

"Hey, what is up with you Ray? You've been acting all weird since you found us. And where is Tal anyway?"

"I told you; Tal has gone after that girl. And then I got bored and left, ok?"

"Ugh, I'm tired. Could we stop for a few seconds please? Then maybe we could carry on and _not _argue for a while?"

_Rest? _

"Fine, we'll take a few minutes and then carry on. How about in here?"

"Yeah sure, lets go in."

My eyes grow wide with fear. Please don't let them come in here. Please let it be somewhere else. Not here. Please, not here.

I watch the door, dreading what may happen. My body, now like a quaking volcano and my heart beat as unsteady as ever. I watch the door.

And slowly, the door opens.

Firstly, a boy walks in. Quite tall and largely built, with an angry look upon his face and a viciously curved sword in his hand. He takes a few steps in and then notices me. His face seems to light up with glee and all the anger in his forehead folds away.

"Oh look what we have here." He says, walking further in. "Ren, Bryn, look what I've found."

The door opens wider and in steps two others. One, an even taller boy, but a lot skinnier than the first and with a head full of wildly curly hair; he has a spear in his hand. And then behind him walks a girl; small and petite with short brown hair and evil, glaring eyes as bright as emeralds themselves. I notice that she has a set of knives strung along her belt.

The first boy that walked in, who I'm guessing is 'Ray', looks down at me and folds his arms across his wide chest. "So, what do you call yourself, girl?"

I say nothing.

"Aww, she's petrified, poor thing." Ray says, laughing darkly. "Well luckily, her fear will be over quickly. Ren? I'll let you take this one, seeing that you still haven't killed anyone yet."

I watch in horror and sheer terror as Ren comes from behind Ray and walks towards me. His fingers tapping on the pole of his spear and his eyes focused on me. I look up to him and my lower lip trembles.

"Pl-please d-d-don't k-k-kill m-me." I stammer so quietly that I'm not even sure if he can hear me or not. Even if he did hear me, he ignores it anyway and stops walking just a foot in front of me.

Sitting on the floor, he seems taller than ever standing before me. My neck aches as I tilt my head to stare at him. Maybe if I keep looking at him then he'll feel guilty and leave me alone? _No, don't be so stupid, Heidi. He's a Career and you're just a weak girl. He could kill you in his sleep. Just face the facts and think of happy thoughts before you die._

I let out a small squeak as Ren raises his spear and points the sharp tip towards my heart. He takes a breath, tenses his arm and mouths 'sorry' to me.

_What?!_

He just mouthed 'sorry' to me?! A Career, who trains and loves to kill, he mouthed 'sorry' to me?! What on earth is wrong with him?

What happens next is even weirder. As Ren goes to stab me, he coils back and drops his arm. I watch, confused, as he mutters, "I can't do it."

"What do you mean, you can't do it?!" Ray explodes. "You're a Career! This is what you are meant to do! Just kill the girl for god's sake you stupid bastard!"

"No." Ren says firmly. "You're wrong. You're the stupid bastard and I am not a Career."

By now my jaw has dropped and my mouth gapes open, but it doesn't end there. Ray goes to stop Ren, but Ren is too quick and throws a punch, hitting Ray smack in the jaw. Ray falls back into the wall behind. Bryn is next to stop Ren, reaching for one of her many knives, but before she can, Ren shoves into her and she goes flying to the ground. Then he slips out the door and is gone.

What just happened?

I have no time to get my head around it, because I hear a grunt and Ray is back on his feet. The anger has returned to his face and he is fuming. A large red mark is printed on the side of his jaw and a trickle of crimson blood falls from his lip and down his chin.

He turns to me. "Don't think you're gonna survive now because that wimp ran away. Oh no, you're still gonna die."

I shuffle back on my hands until the wall prevents me from going any further. Ray presses on, backing me into a corner. I glance around and spot my knife. My hand reaches out and snaps it up and I swipe it at Ray's face. He scowls as the blade narrowly skims his cheek, barely leaving a scratch. He tosses the knife away.

"That all you got?" Ray laughs and grabs my neck, lifting me up to my feet with his incredible strength.

My feet thrash around, no longer touching the ground. My arms swipe at him, but I'm too far away to make any attempt to claw his face.

I gulp, trying so hard to breath, but my throat feels tighter and tighter as Ray's grip gets stronger and stronger.

"Guthrie!" I make a strangled attempt of a scream, but Ray simply laughs at my failing cry.

"Sorry, but I don't think he's going to make in on time." Ray says, then flashes me a vicious grin. "Say goodbye."

_Goodbye Guthrie._

Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV

"You killed Luna." I say, though it pains me to speak those words out loud. "Remember now?"

Tal looks back to me, a hint of recognition upon his tanned face. "Oh yes, I remember. The girl with the curled hair; quite pretty she was too. I presume you two were close, eh? She did keep shouting for you. A shame really, you would have made a sweet couple."

I feel my grip tightening on my sword, my fingers squeezing strenuously into the handle. I want to leap forwards and wipe that smug little smile off his stupid, browned face so desperately now that it takes a heck of a lot of mental persuasion to keep me standing still. I know Tal can see this, he's not thick, he knows what he's doing. And that is why he carries on.

"So what did you say her name was, Luna right?" Tal says. "Such a nice name too, it suited her, don't you think?"

I say nothing.

"Oh, how rude of me, I forgot to ask _your _name. Seeing that you know mine, it is only polite that I know yours also." says Tal. "What is it, your name?"

"As if I'm gonna tell you." I spit.

Tal sighs. "Why do people have to be sooo borrring?"

"Why do people have to be so sick and twisted?" I reply bitterly.

Tal lets out a small chuckle, "Hey, that was almost insulting, but seeing that killing other tributes is praised back in my district, I'll accept your comment as a compliment instead. Thank you for your kindness, unnamed one."

"How can you say that?" I say with disgust. "How can you honestly think that killing an innocent girl is a great achievement? _How_?!"

Tal rolls his eyes and it's obvious that we don't think with the same minds. "It's the Hunger Games, you're meant to kill, or are you stupid enough to forget that vital piece of information? It's a game of survival; you kill others to win. The only way to stay alive and win is to kill. So don't lecture me on morals."

"Maybe, but it's not right to deliberately set out and hunt someone down." I try, clutching at straws now. Tal is good at this, but I want to be better. "I guess I would kill someone if it came to it, but never would I go deliberately chasing someone."

"Then what are you doing now?"

I'm stuck, I don't know what to say to that. I guess I'm a hypocrite then, aren't I? I just said how wrong hunting down someone and killing them was, yet I am doing exactly that. I have deliberately set out to find Tal and yes, killing him was on my mind. Does that make me the same cold blooded person he and the other Careers are?

No. I'm nothing like them. I'm not here to kill for the sake or the, dare I suggest, the fun of it. No, I'm here to get even. A life for a life. Isn't that simply carrying out justice?

I think back to when I found Luna. She was lying, crumpled on the floor, her deep red blood oozing around her, soaking her clothes. Her face was peaceful, yet I know she had felt pain. And the way her hair still lay in soft curls around her face, framing her for a smile. She was a ray of sunshine for me, she helped me forget, no not forget but move on from Elodie. Luna helped me through that and because we didn't know each other for that long, I didn't get the chance to love her properly, but I was pretty close. And maybe if she was still here today, I could be even closer to loving her. But she isn't here because of him. Because of that boy standing in front of me, Luna was taken just like Elodie.

"Luna didn't deserve to die, you know." I say out loud.

"As I said before, it's a game." Tal replies. "I never said she deserved it. That's just the way life is sometimes."

"Because you'd know all about what life is really like, wouldn't you?" I say bitterly. "I bet your life was so easy and carefree back in your precious Career district. I bet you never had to suffer with anything. Everything handed to you on a plate. Pfft, you don't know what life is."

"And you do?" Tal challenges.

I shrug. "I've had a little taster. But not quite as much as Luna. You know, when you killed her, you didn't just kill Luna, but you destroyed her little sister's life as well."

"Oh, I'm such a terrible beast, kill me now." He says sarcastically. "So what? The majority of people who die in these games have siblings. It's hardly a special case."

"Fine, what if I told you that both Luna's parents and some of her other siblings died too? Yeah, what if I told you that Luna was left to care for her two year old sister when she was only fourteen by herself alone? _What if _I told you that you have just taken away the last person who loved and cared for that little girl?! And now you tell me that it's _the way life is_!" I have to catch my breath at the end of my outburst, my words had come out in such a hurry of rage that I forgot to breathe.

Tal looks at me for a moment. I almost start to think that maybe, just maybe he feels a little guilty. Maybe there is some tiny part of him that feels disgusted by is actions and now that he knows the true effects of what he did, maybe he feels a little bad? Just a little?

No, he does not.

"You know, I hear these sob stories every year. And frankly, they're getting pretty dull and boring now." Tal fakes a yawn. "So can we just get onto the killing already?"

I feel a flush of rage boiling up inside me and I grip the handle of my sword so tightly that my knuckles crack. "You make me sick."

"You're so full of hate, aren't you?" Tal says. "But it isn't really hate though, is it? Nah, this rage is just your guilt disguised because you can't bear to admit that you're a failure. Don't deny it either. I know that you're here because I'm simply someone to blame for your own mistakes. You think by killing me you're achieving justice. But not really, you'll just be adding another death to your conscience. Another death caused by you; just like your sister and Luna."

That's it. I can't take it any more. I know he's playing mind games with me, but I have to surrender and let him win this one. He's succeeded with his goal, but I can still fight back in round two. I still have a chance to draw even.

I lunge forwards, my sword thrust out in front of me. I let out a cry of rage as I push the blade towards Tal's torso. But he's expecting it and just steps to the side, laughing at me, mocking and patronizing me.

"Oh c'mon, that was so predictable." Tal laughs. "I could see that a mile off. You'll have to do a bit better than that, unnamed one."

"Arrrhh!" I yell in frustration, swiping for his neck. This time I'm a little closer, so the Tal only just dodges the attack, a smooth, but seriously close dodge.

I go again, this time, my sword knocks into Tal's silver trident and an ear-piercing screech sounds from metal on metal. I wince, but don't let it faze me. I still haven't hit Tal once yet.

The saliva in my mouth bubbles and I turn and spit it out. It lands with a miniature splash on the thinly coated ground. The snow is still here, but it's on its way out.

"Aren't you going to fight me?!" I shout back. "Or are you all talk?"

Tal's eyes drop as he looks at his trident, tiny reflected images of the weapon in his pupils. He then looks back to me, having made his decision, and says, "Oh you know I'm not all talk."

Tal steps into a fighting stance, once he was probably taught back home, and holds his trident firmly in his hand. It looks heavy, but Tal seems so used to it that to him it weighs nothing more than his own arm normally weighs. I stand facing him, a little messy with my own stance, but I've never been trained so this is new to me. I squint my eyes, sending cold daggers into his. My lower lip tenses as I give him a snarl. Tal responds with a sly grin. He thinks he'll win this fight. Me? I don't know what will happen.

"So how did your sister die anyway?" Tal asks. "Didn't last long, did she? And there was me thinking you volunteered to protect her. But I suppose you got distracted by Luna and forgot about helping your sister, right?"

I snap forwards and swing my blade with such a force that I'm almost thrown off balance. Tal, although he had expected it, is a little slow on dodging and the tip of the sword nips his shoulder. I can tell it hurt, but Tal refuses to seem weakened and instead heads straight for a response attack. I expect him to go for my torso, judging by the angle of the trident, so I jump out of the way. However, Tal quickly dips the trident and catches my calf. I make a small yelp as the spears of the trident stab into my leg, a searing pain making my eyes water.

"Oh I'm sorry, did that hurt?" Tal says spitefully.

I grit my teeth and push through the pain, turning and making an uncontrolled slash at Tal. He laughs at my failed attempt and uses the pole of his trident to knock me off balance and I stumble forwards into a tree. The rough bark scrapes along my cheek as my face collides with the trunk. The force of hitting the tree winds me and I gasp out for air.

Behind me, I hear Tal approaching slowly. His footsteps become my heartbeats. I groan as I turn myself around to face Tal. As he approaches me, I raise my sword with heavy arms and make a weak stab, which Tal deflects with his own weapon and pushes the sword out of my hand. I watch as it falls to the ground, a clanging thud on the forest floor. I want to go and reach it, but I'm still winded and Tal will stop me anyway. It looks like I'm losing.

Tal laughs, shaking his head as he lifts his trident and holds the spear points against the thin layer of skin that covers my neck. I can feel the points, like giant pins, pressing into my throat and I'm afraid to gulp for fear of having my neck pierced.

"It's funny how you ended up." Tal says. "This is such a coincidence with you pressed up against the tree like that and me with my trident against your weak body. This is exactly how Luna was. Did you know that? Did you?"

I don't reply. Tal gently presses the trident harder into my neck, the sharp points breaking my delicate skin. I can feel the narrow trickles of blood running down my neck.

"This would make a great tragedy story, wouldn't it?" Tal says. "The pretty, young damsel is brutally murdered at the foot of a tree and is found dead by her lover. The now grieving boy races off to find the murderer and seek revenge. However, he falls short and ends up being killed in exactly the same way as his lover. Aw, it brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?"

"Stop...doing...this." I say weakly, my voice strained from the pressure on my neck.

"Stop doing what?" Tal asks. "What, this?" He presses the trident even further and the break in my skin opens further, more blood pumping out. I know it won't be long until he either pushes the trident straight through my neck, or he'll leave me barely alive and watch me bleed to death. I think I prefer the first option.

"You know, you're a very silly boy. Thinking you could beat a Career like me, pfft, you can't have been serious to think that you even had a chance!" Tal spits in my face. "You're nothing but a-"

He suddenly stops talking.

I look at him, confused, waiting for him to come out with another hurtful insult. But he says nothing. It's only when his body falls into me that I realise something has happened. I quickly push the trident from my neck and take a huge gulp of air. Tal still slumps against me and when I look over his shoulder, I see the beginning of a sword jutting out of his back. I gasp and push the body off me. It lands heavily on the floor.

"You ok there, dude?"

I look up from Tal's body and see Guthrie walking towards me, his face quite pale. He looks a little uneasy, but approaches me with steady confidence.

"Guthrie?" I stare in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm saving your butt, that's what I'm doing." He replies and a canon fires immediately after he finishes, marking Tal's death. "And it's a damn good thing I was passing by when I was or it would be you slumped dead on the floor and not him."

"Oh yeah, thanks for that, I owe you one." I say, then bite my lower lip. "Actually, I owe you two... Look, I'm sorry about leaving the alliance with Luna. I should have at least told you and not left a message. I was a real jerk for doing that."

"No worries, it's cool with me." Guthrie replies. "Oh, so I know about Luna...I saw her in the sky a few days ago. Sorry about that, what happened?"

I simply point to Tal. Guthrie nods.

"And I also saw that Rhea...yeah." I say. "How did that happen?"

"The flood. Fell of the roof when we were getting to high ground. The rush of water carried her off straight away; died instantly, so it wasn't so bad for her. Heidi was pretty cut up about it though."

"Oh, how is Heidi? Where is she?"

"She's back in a little building. I came out to get dry wood for a fire and she was too tired to come so she stayed. In fact, I should probably head back now, I don't want her getting worried." Guthrie says. "You're welcome to come back with me if you'd like. I know Heidi isn't mad at you either and you look pretty bad, no offence, you've got blood all down your neck and a couple of harsh scratches on your face. Heidi still has that first aid kit the sponsors sent her. I'm sure there's something in there that will help."

I'm hesitant at first, but I'll bleed to death if I don't get some medical attention, so I nod in agreement.

"Right, I'll show you the way." Guthrie starts off.

We walk through the woods, a route I'm not familiar with, until we reach the fence. Guthrie pulls back a plant and behind it, a gap in the fence awaits. Just as I go to climb through, I hear another canon and my body jumps at the sound.

"Who do you think-" I start, but Guthrie has shoved me out of the way and darts through the gap in the fence, leaving me trailing behind.

Oh no, he thinks it's Heidi. Oh, I really hope it isn't. Please don't be Heidi.

I follow Guthrie, though he's a lot faster than me at the moment and my leg still hurts from the fight before. I spot him darting into a small building and as I come in a little after him, I stop dead in my tracks.

Guthrie stands, his hands hung by his sides and his head bowed low. I peer over his shoulder and see the limp body of Heidi, her pale blue eyes still open, but her face drained of colour.

"She's dead." Guthrie says quietly. "She's dead."

* * *

**A/N- :( :( :( Multiple sad faces :( That was hard to kill off two of our best loved tributes, it really was... Sorry to all you Tal fans (I know there are quite a number of you), this means there will be no more funny and sarcastic comments, nor pranks pulled on Ray and the worst of all...NO MORE TAL/BRYN LOVELY MOMENTS :( That depresses me. And also, to any Heidi fans, there will now be no more 'dumb blonde' moments or cute Heidi/Guthrie moments either. Heidi was quite a character and it is sad to see her go, she has grown so much since her reaping and she shocked us all by lasting so long. If only one more person died before her, then she would have made it to the final eight.**

**Yes, mentioning that, IT IS NOW THE FINAL EIGHT! Our remaining tributes are (in no particular order): Raymond Periwinkle, Bryn Rosella, Ren Elmwood, Layla Roberts, Arya Firestone, Inva Reinhardt, Zephyr Torelli and Guthrie Zython. From now, things get even more dramatic for our final eight and who will live to reach the end?**

**Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing, I love you lots like jelly tots (actually, I don't really like jelly tots, they're too sugary...). And please leave more reviews, I'm desperate to hear what you think about the story so far and I especially want to know your opinions on our final eight and WHO DO YOU THINK WILL WIN? I do know the victor, but do you?**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


	37. The Final Eight

**A/N- Gah, sorry for the slow update guys, I've been busy with lots of revision for my exams in a few weeks, so this took me a little longer than expected. Ok, so this chapter is slightly different than previous ones, as it contains all 8 POVs of our surviving tributes...This gives us a look at where they are and how they're feeling when twenty four become eight...Enjoy!**

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Inva Reinhardt, District 3 POV

The snow is finally on its way out, the sprigs of grass and ends of long buried twigs are beginning to peak up from the ground and the bark of the trees is no longer sprinkled with dustings of icing sugar. There is no longer a stale, bitter wind in the air that would tear through the stray strands of hair that fell from my ponytail and send cold hearted slaps to my bare face. And there is no longer that constant fear that someone is following your footsteps.

Back in the churchyard, I walk along, disappearing behind the crumbling stone walls that surround the old building. This is another thing that I like about the church, it's quite private and I feel like I can hide easier without feeling too edgy about it.

Unbolting the heavy door, I push it open and toss my bag inside, the sound of the dead animal I just hunted echoing as it hits the flat ground inside the tattered bag. I close the door over, leaving it ever so slightly ajar in case I need to make a quick scarper inside.

I heard two canons while I was out today; one only minutes after the first. I don't know what happened, or who died, but I can find out.

The twenty four gravestones stand firm in the ground, their bleak grey colour matching well with that of the wall behind them. I still don't know why there are twenty four of them; only twenty three will die, so there is an extra one. Hm, maybe the Gamemakers hate odd numbers or something?

Pacing round so I can face the engraved sides of the gravestones, I look at the two new additions: Tal Fontaine, District Four and Heidi Fitzherbit, District Twelve. None of those names really mean much to me, but on a positive, another Career is gone. One less to worry about. Which reminds me, how many have died so far?

I count each gravestone that possesses a name and list the numbers in my head. One, two three...Ten, eleven, twelve...Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Sixteen. Sixteen out of twenty four.

Eight left. Wow. This is the final eight. And I'm still here.

Guthrie Zython, District 8 POV

Her hair falls soft through my fingers; fair locks slipping gracefully between the narrow gaps in my hands. The smooth texture is foreign to my rough palms that are stained with dried bleak mud and punctured with tiny holes that splinters leave behind. With skilful actions I bind the three sections of her hair into a golden plait that I seal with the lace of her boot and lie carefully down her left shoulder.

Sitting back on my heels, I look at Heidi, with her hair now neatly styled and her eyes closed in a gentle slumber. The usual tinge of rose pink that normally flavoured her cheeks has now withered and a new skin of white rose is left in its place. Death suits her, makes her look more angelic, but life looked even better.

In a state of silence, I run a gentle finger down her frozen neck, feeling the broken building of her bones beneath her cold and pale skin. The structure of the top of her spine as been fractured, like shattered glass in a window. And it feels painful to touch.

"Guthrie." A tap on my shoulder. "They'll want to take her body; we should get out the way."

I nod slowly. _Yeah, I need to get out of the way, yeah. That's what I need to do. _

Zephyr offers a hand and helps me to my weak feet. He guides me to the door as I'm a little unsure of what I am doing and my feet do the opposite of what my brain tells them to do, like my head is separate from the rest of my body. Because that's what I feel like now. The world around me is shrinking and my mind is blocking out thoughts that I want to think. Life feels like a dream and I just want to wake up.

I take one more glance at Heidi, whisper good night to the sunshine, and close the door.

Ren Elmwood, District 1 POV

My heart is in my mouth and my chest feels shallow and empty; beats echoing like a skeleton in a closet. My ankles crack as my feet pound on the ground with little haste; the sound like crackles of lightning within my bones. My lungs burn and sweat drips down my forehead, trickling drops into my eyes and causing them to sting and water and pain streaks of tears down my face.

_What have I done?_

Trees close like soldiers either side of me, squeezing my body tighter and tighter; my chest feels bandaged with metal. The pressure of the air is overwhelming; I can feel my brain being pinned to the back of my skull and the veins in my temple throb.

_What have I done?_

The forest around me is thicker now, the trees seem to be moving closer together and each time I look away and look back again, I swear they are even closer. Usually, I don't venture into the forest; it's not a territory I am used to and I'm not familiar with the way it works. I tended to stay back at camp, where everything was open around me and I could see all that was there; I felt safe there, I knew there. But here? I'm like a stranger in foreign lands.

My boot catches in the roots of a tree and I stumble forwards, my hands shooting out to break my fall. I land with a clattering crash and I feel an agonising pain in my left wrist. Clutching it with my right hand, I press my fingers into the bones beneath the wrist and try to numb the pain, but it keeps on going, like a solid grip on my wrist...

I shake my head furiously, I can't let myself think about it. About how I held that spear so tightly that my knuckles almost popped out of my skin when I stood before that girl, prepared to kill her. I know I didn't, I know I chickened out. At first I thought it was the best thing to do, but now, I know it wasn't. I just left that girl to face a far more worse death. Ray would have made it painful and horrible, whereas at least I would have done it quickly and as painless as I could.

Crumbled on the floor, I hold my wrist to my chest and bow my head to my up-brought knees.

_What have I done?_ _I've done the coward's act._

Zephyr Torelli, District 9 POV

Guthrie stands emotionless, his back thrown against the wall like he has nothing to care about in the world and his hands thrust into his pockets. I hate seeing him like this, all quiet and blank, it's not the Guthrie everyone is used to seeing. He normally is the joker and the happy-go-lucky kinda guy, but now, all that positivity has drained from his face. The Games can completely change people. They've changed me, I know.

"Guthrie, do you wanna talk about it?" I ask him, approaching the subject carefully. "I'm a good listener."

Guthrie shakes his head and says nothing, his eyes like those of a dead fish; reflective and empty.

I shuffle on my feet, the awkwardness of the moment weighing heavily on my shoulders. I know what it's like to lose someone you've been close to recently, but right now I can't think of what to say to make him feel better. I suppose there isn't really anything I can say anyway. I bet Luna would know what to say, but she isn't here, is she? And neither is the boy who killed her.

I keep remembering the moment when I felt Tal's body fall heavily against me, the weight of his body mass seeming to triple as his muscles became weak. The image of the sword jutting out of his back keeps replaying over and over, so real that I can still feel the warmth of his fresh blood soaking into my shirt...

My eyes glance down to my chest, where a huge pond of deep crimson has stained my shirt. It's Tal's blood and with each blink, it seems to grow larger and larger and more and more noticeable.

I grab at the shirt with a quick hand, twisting the material in a closed fist and screwing my eyes together. His blood is a mark, one that will stay beneath my eyes until I die, because I am sure to die in this arena. I have to face every second with his dried blood tattooed onto my shirt, taunting me and reminding me of my near brush with death and how his death saved my life.

But I'm not even a murderer. I didn't even kill him. I tried, I wanted to, but I didn't, I couldn't. Someone else had to do it for me. Because I failed. And failing is what I do.

Layla Roberts, District 4 POV

Someone's there. A boy. A Career. Sitting just a few metres under my feet. He doesn't know I'm here. And I don't know why he's there.

I saw him earlier on, trampling through the woods at top speed; quite clumsily actually, his long and lanky legs stretching out in front of him shakily and his feet hitting the ground with uneven intervals. For a Career, he seemed pretty out of sorts.

I was up in a tree at the time I saw him, about to set my crossbow on the latest unlucky animal that would later become my supper, and to be honest, I almost toppled out of the tree, I was that surprised. Well obviously not as shocked as he was when a low branch of a tree slapped him smack in the middle of the forehead and then later when he tripped over some roots and landed with a crunch on his wrists. That part was hilariously entertaining, might I just point out.

So now, he sits with his knees drawn up to his chest and looks nothing like a strong Career, but a young and innocent boy instead. Well, even if he wasn't moping on the floor he still couldn't look scary if he tried; his hair is too wild and curly and his cheeks are too dimpled to be called menacing, in fact, he's sort of cute in a way. Not a patch on Tal, however.

Oh, Tal. I haven't actually thought about him in a while, so let's push that image out of my head before I get distracted and end up allowing myself to be slaughtered by the boy below me. Time is ticking and decisions have to be made if I'm going to live any longer.

Shuffling as quietly and as carefully as I can, I bring the crossbow around in front of me, resting it between two branches so that I can angle it correctly. With one eye closed halfway, I peer down at the boy and aim the tip of the bolt for the centre of his skull. My fingers gently begin to squeeze the trigger and I prepare myself for the jolt as the bolt is released.

The last person this was aimed at was Phosphorus. That was when he handed me the weapon and gave me the chance to kill him. I didn't, but now he's dead anyway. If there was one thing that boy taught me other than how to effectively camouflage a cave and climb a tree easily; it was definitely how to trust someone.

But what would he be saying to me now? Would he be telling me to kill the Career below, or to slip away silently and let him go. I dunno, Phosphorus could be very unpredictable.

And so can I.

Bryn Rosella, District 2 POV

It's getting dark and it's getting boring now. The walk back to camp was slow, silent and awkward. The recent event was just swimming round in our minds, replaying over and over again, each time something seemed different. I can admit that I was pretty damn shocked at what Ren did before; I thought yeah, he'd probably back out of killing that girl, he looked sick about it, but I never would have expected him to turn like he did.

My shoulder still aches from my collision with the wall when I was pushed by Ren. If my arm wasn't wounded by that stupid tree girl then I could have stopped him. I could have sent a knife flying straight through that long, skinny neck of his and gladly watched him as he fell to the ground, his blood pouring from his neck like a miniature waterfall.

However, if I have to applaud him for something, it would be his fabulous punch he dealt to Ray's jaw. It was actually fantastic. For that one moment when Ren turned, threw his fist and smashed into Ray's lower jaw, I was team Ren. Normally I don't chose teams, especially neither of those two idiots, but for that one second, I loved Ren. But then that second ended and I went back to hating his guts again.

Now, I'm sitting on the roof of the Cornucopia, staring up at the ever dimming sky. It's almost nightfall now, the Sun is just setting as I think, its golden orange glow disappearing behind the curtain of the buildings ahead. When the moon is ready to rise, there will be faces in the sky.

There were two canons today; I know one belonged to that girl Ray killed earlier, the one who Ren chickened out of killing, but I do not know who the second one belonged to. If I had to guess, I'd say it was the stupid tree girl whom Tal was chasing after. I hope he killed her slowly and painfully.

The last of the Sun's light fades and suddenly, the music of the Capitol's anthem begins to play. I tilt my head back and watch as the words 'The Fallen' shine bright against the dark of the sky behind. And then I watch as the words blur into a picture of Tal.

I feel my heart plummeting.

A sharp pain tears through my body like a knife buried inside me that has just been yanked out through the middle of my chest and carelessly tossed away, my blood tainting it's otherwise glistening gleam. I'm aching, I feel sick. My insides are tangled with my outsides and everything seems the opposite of what it was before. A tight ball squeezes in my throat, blocking my airways and preventing me from breathing clearly; I want to cough, but all I can do is gulp.

I'm not normally an emotional person, but with Tal's face burning down to me like a God in the heavens and his name bold in my eyes, I feel the tiniest tear falling down my cheek.

Raymond Periwinkle, District 5 POV

He's going to pay for this. That little, puny bastard is going to pay for this.

I want to take his scrawny body in my hand and crush it so that I feel his bones break beneath my fingers. I want to squeeze his snapable neck so tight that his eyes fall out of their sockets. I want to break every single one of his fingers one at a time with the harsh force of my own hands. I want to take his spear and stake his heart, pushing slowly and twisting the point around until it pokes out the other side of his body. I want to see the fear in his eyes as I show him what pain really is and most of all, I want revenge.

The surface of the Cornucopia is slightly reflective, so as I stand before it, I can make out the purple patch on the side of my jaw where his fist bruised my skin. With a finger, I rub along the bruise, not even wincing when it throbs beneath my touch. The skin feels weak and damaged, but it's only a punch, I can deal with a lot worse than that. I can do a lot worse than that myself.

I hate to admit it, in fact I despise to say, that Ren caught me off-guard earlier. I wasn't expecting him to flip out like that, I thought he'd either give in and kill the girl or weep into a corner, so I was most definitely _not _expecting him to throw a punch. Of course, had I been prepared, I would have easily dodged it and decked him myself.

I wonder what he's doing right now; probably crying himself to sleep hidden somewhere. Not only has he betrayed his allies, but he's betrayed the whole of his district, and all the other Career districts as well. Boy, he would be in so much trouble if he went home; they'd probably banish him or something or worse, force him to stay and have everyone give him dirty looks of disappointment and failure. Of course, because I am such a generous person, I won't let that happen to him. No, I'll kill him before he can get home. And I'll enjoy every second of it.

Ren is going to learn what happens when you mess with Raymond Periwinkle.

Arya Firestone, District 7 POV

Slouching back, my spine resting comfortably against the rough tree trunk as if it were a cushioned chair and my head tilted towards the sky, I wait for the anthem to play. It's quite a peaceful night; the air seems calm and undisturbed, only a small breeze the size of a breath blowing gently against my cheek and the sound of the twitching in the forest has quietened to just a low murmur. The temperate has improved too; with the snow starting to melt, the air around seems that tiny bit warmer and I'm shivering a lot less than I was before. One could easily fall asleep on such a beautiful night, if I didn't have to stay awake to see who has fallen today. I know I definitely heard one canon, I think maybe two, or possibly a third.

Whilst waiting patiently, I think back to my close encounter with the Careers. I was almost certain that I would die; there were so many of them, four fully-trained tributes against a measly district seven girl. Not a fair comparison. However, it was only because of the environment that I escaped. I suppose being in a forest was an advantage for me, seeing that my district is half forest, and so I guess it wasn't _that _surprising that I got away. Although, I wasn't expecting to injure one of the Careers, but I'm glad I did.

My bow is still in my hand, the smoothness of it's shape comforting to hold. I stroke the surface of the wood gently with a delicate finger and then look up to the sky once more as I hear the anthem begin to play.

The first person to be shown is Tal Fontaine, the District Four boy. I'm quite shocked actually, it can't have been too long after he had chased me in the woods that he died, so maybe he went back to find me after I snuck away and bumped into another tribute?

And the second person is a girl, Heidi Fitzherbit from District Twelve. I vaguely remember her; I'm pretty sure she was the drama queen who made a fool of herself at her reaping and had some sort of mental breakdown on stage...I'm quite surprised that she actually made it this far to be honest. Oh well, she's gone now, so that's that.

The image in the sky fades out and the sky appears indigo blue once more. Two deaths today. Another two notches in my boot. I take out my penknife and bring my foot onto my other leg so that I can reach the sole of my boot. With the knife, I cut two marks into the boot alongside the others and return the knife to my bag. I then count the notches in my boot.

Sixteen notches. Sixteen tributes dead. Eight left.

It's the final eight. At an instant, a shiver passes down my spine and my heart thumps violently from behind my ribs. And all of a sudden, the woods seem much darker than before.

* * *

**A/N- Alrighty then! So there are our final eight and boy is this gonna get hard for them...Hehe, I have some surprises set up for them, one which will affect _all_ of them directly...but what could it be? Haha, you'll have to wait to find out!**

**Ok, so next chapter will be another Outside chapter I think, and then after that will be two chapters based upon the Final Eight Interviews! Exciting...how very interesting it will be and who, I wonder, will be speaking on behalf of the living tributes?**

**So what I really, really want to know from all you readers are 1) Who are your favourite/least favourite tributes and 2) Who do you think/want to win the 500th Hunger Games? Please, please, please review and let me know your answers! I'm exicted to find out who's the most/least popular and whether anyone will guess who is going to be the victor...**

**Well, until the next chapter, farewell from me and thanks for reading!**

**Thanks, FireflyLlama xxx**


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